The Fighting Spirit
by smart grid
Summary: Spartans never die, they say. When Jorge gave his life to save his home planet of Reach, he never imagined that he would survive. But now he finds himself neck deep in the troubles of another universe; he will do what he has been trained to do, what all Spartans do best: fight.
1. Foreword

Alright, so here's my first story on the site. If you want to skip right to the good stuff, feel free, if you want some more information and background about the story, I'll try to answer it here. But first, a disclaimer:

**I do not own either the Halo franchise or the Mass Effect franchise. The non-original characters in this story belong to their respective publishers. Any original characters are mine; please ask permission if you wish to use any of them, I doubt I'll have any objections. Any similarities between any characters in this story and a person in real life are purely coincidental unless otherwise noted.**

**Inspiration:**

Lots of Mass Effect reading on the site. I enjoy the Halo games, and I enjoy Jorge's character in Reach. I also enjoy fantasizing about crossovers, what would happen if X was in Y universe. In this case, Jorge in the Mass Effect universe. Unfortunately, I have not read any of the books in either the Mass Effect universe or the Halo universe. This story was inspired by the games, and all the info that I can find will come from the wikis. The rest I will try to reasonably make up. And yes, this is also partially inspired by the other two stories in this category so far, _Make It Count _by JeanDaBean and _The New Guy_ by Theano.

**General Facts:**

I don't intend for Jorge to be a Mary Sue, and please tell me if I'm headed that way. He is, in many respects, superior to Shepard in terms of combat, reflexes, and any physical attributes, and I intend to stay true to his Spartan nature as close as I can. However, he is woefully lacking in social skills, tact, subtlety, and general lifestyle knowledge. It's a balance, and I'll try to keep it that way, or at least have Jorge learn at a reasonable rate.

Jorge isn't going to be the SPECTRE, the leader, the man who gets it all done. That's still Shepard's job. Jorge is a companion, and I aim to make him as lively and believable in that role as Garrus, Wrex, Tali, and all the other squadmates are. This also means that, as a companion, he won't be taken along for every mission. I am going to change it so that more than just two companions can follow Shepard, though.

I'll try to stay as close as I can to the characterizations of the supporting cast, but I am human and I do make mistakes. Characterization may or may not be my strong point, I don't know yet, so if you see something that you believe is way out of character, please PM or email me

**Romance:**

No. This isn't a romance story, Jorge will not be falling for Shepard, nor will he be in a romantic situation with anyone else. He's a Spartan, he's essentially had his sex drive suppressed by the augmentation procedure, and I intend to reflect that. I've been considering possibly unrequited love, one-way Female-Shepard to Jorge, so that may or may not turn up. Shepard may also have a love interest, but since this story is mostly from Jorge's perspective, we aren't really going to see any courting or really intimate situations, but it might be mentioned.

**Technology:**

I really don't want to go down this argumentative road, but I'll have to go there for a little bit I suppose. Jorge is, at least initially, keeping his armor and nothing else. That means plasma shields. I haven't found any solid numbers on the wikis, so I'm using a little artistic license in this case. Jorge's shielding, on a scale of 1 to 10, is going to be rated a 4, while mass effect shielding will run the whole spectrum. So later, when Shepard has upgraded, he/she'll have much stronger shields. On the other hand, Jorge's shields will recharge much faster naturally than the kinetic barriers, so Jorge has a slight advantage there.

Other than that, his armor is essentially made out of starship-grade hull armor. As such, he's going to have a serious advantage once his shields fail, his armor is as heavy duty as a small vehicle. Think Mako levels of toughness.

I see no problems with his exoskeleton, nor his reaction times, in keeping with his Spartan background.

If anyone has any serious problems with this, please PM me so we can have a reasonable discussion on the matter.

**Update Schedule**:

I am doing this on my free time, between college and work and family and all that other stuff called 'life'. As such, updates are going to be spotty. If you want me to work on this story, review it or send me a message telling me that you enjoy this story and want me to continue.


	2. Q & A

Q & A

IT IS RECCOMENDED YOU SKIP THIS CHAPTER IF YOU HAVE NOT YET READ THE STORY

This chapter is a Q&A section, where I'll try to answer comments and questions that I get in reviews. So if you have a question, ask it and I'll answer it here. I'll be sure to update this regularly, so check back if you have new questions too.

**Why didn't they detect a computer in Jorge's armor? After all, it likely has an electronic interface to count bullets at the least.**

One, that's a piece of military tech, any computer system will likely have been synched to Jorge's suit and only his suit, or at least UNSC personnel, for intelligence denial. Two, they may not necessarily have detected it, it is an alien system and they may not have known what to look for. Three, I personally am of the opinion that it wouldn't have had a computer, the ammo counter would have been from the suit computer. But that's me, believe whichever you wish.

**Why did Jorge scuttle the Corvette? That would be very dangerous near a gravity well, such as a planet.**

He didn't want this thing causing any more damage. He could die at any minute, if he was going down, he was taking it with him. And remember, he may have had some training on how to work covenant ships, but without an AI like Cortana or Dot, I highly doubt he could successfully control such a ship by himself- but he would have had training on how to disable it. Also, he had no idea that he would come out of slipspace near a planet- the galaxy is mostly empty space, it's astronomical odds that a blind jump would lead you to orbit around a planet, much less a populated one.

**Are they going to salvage the crash site? Aren't they going to analyze Jorge's armor tech and duplicate that too?**

Eventually, yes. But remember, the corvette broke up and most of it fell into the ocean on Tempest. It's going to take time and serious effort to salvage anything, and that's if anything survives in the first place. As for Jorge, well, science isn't something you can do overnight. They know it can be done, but they have to find a way to do it. So don't expect to see anything in this (ME1 storyline) story. But, if I do a sequel, expect some things to start popping up.

**How much ME tech is Jorge going to have installed? Why hasn't he installed an eezo core yet, to lighten himself and get kinetic barriers, etc.?**

Keep in mind this takes place over the course of a few weeks, during which time Jorge will be using his armor. At this moment, there hasn't been time to install anything serious. That, and he won't want to modify his armor in a way that will possibly be detrimental to himself- and since this is all unknown tech, who knows whether any of it will work with his armor? So he has the omni tool right now and that's about the extent of his ME tech armor modifications, at least in my mind. Sequel? If I do one, expect to see some stuff, two years is a much longer time.

**Why isn't X consistent with cannon? It was in X book.**

I haven't read any of the books, of either Halo or Mass Effect cannon. Or the graphic novels, or the movies. What I know comes strictly from the games and from what I can manage to dig up on the Mass Effect Wiki and Halo Wiki. Anything else I'll try to reasonably make up, or if someone points out something to me, I'll try to work it into the story as I see fit.

**What about Sprint and Armor lock from the Reach game?**

As a Spartan II, I consider Jorge superior to Six and have read numerous places about their physical endurance. He has Sprint already, no need for the armor upgrade. As for Armor lock... I am hesitant to make Jorge any more of an invincible juggernaut than he already is. But I haven't decided yet, so just because we haven't seen it doesn't mean he doesn't have it as of this writing.

EDIT:

I'm going to make the executive decision right now that the only possible armor permutation he can have is armor lock- if he has that. So no dodge, no drop shield, etc.

Sorry for anyone looking forward to these things.

**What is Jorge's armor?**

From what I gather on the Halo Wiki, he essentially wears the equivalent of Mark V armor- however, it should be noted that it is actually might be a Mark IV suit upgraded with plasma shielding. It's a little ambiguous in the Wiki, so I'm making the executive decision that he has upgraded Mark IV, rather than a Mark V. Unless someone manages to find evidence otherwise, in which case I'll gladly change it.

EDIT:

Thanks to Knightowl 4183, who has access to the Halo Essential Visual Guide. He confirms that Jorge is 7'4'', weights 320 lbs, and has heavily upgraded his Mjolnir Mark IV armor to suit his fighting style. For purposes of this story, that means that, while it is equivalent in every way to a Mark V, it is actually a Mark IV that he has upgraded.

EDIT 2:

Thanks to the powers of retcon, Jorge is still 7'4'' and wearing Mark IV armor, but now weights approximately 600 lbs, due to increased muscle density, bone augmentations, and sheer size.

**How is Jorge going to fix his armor? **

I'm going on the assumption here that Jorge knows enough about his armor to do most fixes to battle damage he will inevitably receive. He would doubtlessly have had training on care and maintenance for his armor. The only question is, can he get the materials? Titanium's pretty expensive and rare, but Hackett could take care of that. The real issue is any damage to the reactor, shielding system, or the undersuit. Jorge has no material replacements for these things and/or insufficient knowledge to repair or remake these things.

**Jorge/Shepard pairing?**

Alright, for everyone here who didn't read the Foreword, I'm going to say it again; this is not a romance story. Jorge is not falling for Shepard, nor am I planning on him being in a romantic relationship with anyone else. He's a Spartan, trained to be a soldier, and his mindset is such that, even if he does fall in love, he'll probably mistake it for friendship or loyalty. That, and the augmentation procedure seriously hampered his bodily reaction to love and lust. The best someone can hope for in this story is unrequited love from Shepard on Jorge, which I have not yet decided will or will not happen. But I have to admit there is a fair chance that the unrequited love thing will happen.

**What about the Biofoam that Jorge brought with him?**

Biofoam is a major discovery for the Alliance- my take on it is described in Chapter 8. Anyways, medi-gel is effective at small cuts, damps pain, and prevents infection. Biofoam stabilizes internal organs for a time, numbs pain. From my decidedly non-medical-professional view, this means that medi-gel is effective against small wounds, like mass accelerator rounds, surface cuts, burns, that kind of thing. Biofoam is much more effective internally, where it will stabilize major wounds, such as impalements or deep cuts, or organ damage. Reverse engineering biofoam will save a lot of lives.

But, once again, science takes time. Don't expect anything in this story, though, should I continue, expect to see some new miracle foam.

**Is Master Chief going to appear? How about other Spartans?**

Probably not. Don't get me wrong, MC is awesome, but two Spartans in one universe would make it explode from awesomeness. This story is pretty much for Jorge. I did originally consider using MC instead of Jorge, but I didn't like that for a few reasons: first, baggage- MC comes with Cortana, and that's a lot of issues I didn't particularly feel like dealing with at the time. Second, MC has very little social skills. Jorge at least talks, feels like more of a person than MC, and most importantly, seems more social than MC and most other Spartans. Which isn't saying much, but hey, gotta take what we can get. So not this story. If I do a sequel? It's a small possibility, but once again, probably not.

At the moment, I am not planning on ANY additional characters, real or OC, from the Halo universe to appear in the Mass Effect universe. Sorry guys, but no more Spartans, or ODSTs, or any other help from the UNSC will be forthcoming, beyond what crossed over with Jorge during his little slipspace bomb incident.

**I don't see how Jorge compares Turians and the Sangheili in appearance. They don't look anything like each other.**

You're right, they don't look anything like each other, for the most part.

BUT...

Jorge has been fighting against elites all his life. Over decades of combat, he's learned to associate 'flared mandibles' with 'shits about to go down'. So when a Turian flares his mandibles, his combat instincts kick in. But otherwise, everything else is completely alien to him so he doesn't really have a reaction to them.

**NUKES! WHERE ARE ALL THE NUKES!?**

EDIT 1: If you want a very thorough accounting of space weapons, check out this website: wwwDOTprojectrhoDOTcom/public_hAtml /rocket/spacegunconventDOTphp. Stupid fanfiction, got to replace the DOTs with . and remove that A in hAtml in the to make it work. Anyways, whoever wrote this put a lot of effort into it, way more than I am willing to, and everything he says could probably be applied to ME if you add eezo tech on top of it.

I seem to have touched off a lot of discussion with my nuke comment, so I decided to take a closer look at the topic. Now, I am not a nuclear expert, but I am an engineer, so I am slightly familiar with the math going on here and I believe I can get some realistic assumptions and answers down. I should also note that I am analyzing this strictly through the lens of Mass Effect; these conclusions should not be applied to the Halo universe, they assume Mass Effect technology, ship design, and tactics.

First and foremost, let me say that we won't be seeing nukes used in space combat. I intend to keep with Mass Effect cannon, and no urging from one man is going to outweigh the costs of developing and using such weapons until it is too late.

Now, a mass effect dreadnought is stated on the wiki of accelerating a 20kg slug to 1.3% the speed of light. According to the wiki, that is the equivalent kinetic energy of 38 kilotons of TNT, or a 38kiloton nuke (I ran the numbers to check this, and it is indeed correct).

For comparison, the nukes dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki were around the 10 kiloton range- modern nukes run the gambit from relatively small tactical nukes of only a few kilotons or less all the way up to the city busters of the Tsar Bomb (50 megatons, which is approximately equivalent to a cube of TNT the size of the Eiffel Tower) and it's American equivalent, Ivy Mike. Now, nukes in the Halo universe are up to 30 Megatons for a standard Havoc (I know there are bigger nukes out there in the Halo verse, but even there they aren't exactly common as far as I know). Assuming this is the upper end of common nukes in the ME verse, this is indeed quite superior to the power of a single shot from a dreadnought cannon.

I should point out that there is a difference in destruction between in-atmosphere and space detonations. In atmosphere, you get huge amounts of damage from shockwaves and fireballs, as the nuke flash-heats the air to several thousand degrees; since there is no air in space, the damage is primarily radiative and thermal, aka you are much more likely to melt something than actually break it apart. I do have to admit this is a bit shakey, I looked a bit into Project Orion and they mentioned something about a plasma stream, but I couldn't understand it enough to make sense.

Nukes also have an advantage in that they create an EMP effect when detonated, disabling and damaging electronics within it's range. This is caused by huge voltage and current fluctuations, damaging or destroying electronic components, and during earth testing was capable of knocking out street lamps over 1800km away from the detonation point. I read up on this a bit and it seems that there are methods of getting a degree of EMP hardening out of electronics, but for arguments sake here let's just assume that an EMP disables everything within a certain radius.

HOWEVER:

Nukes possess several problems in ship to ship combat. First and foremost, as I mentioned earlier, the Council considers them weapons of mass destruction, and has lots and lots of pesky things called 'rules' on their use, none of which the Alliance is going to be willing to breach unless in the most dire of circumstances. This isn't going to prevent their use, merely make it that much more complicated.

Second. Nukes are slow. Let me put this in perspective. The mass accelerator slug is moving at 4,000 km/s, and in what I am guessing is the average distance for space engagements (call it 8000 km to 16000 km) would take a second or two to get to the target, allowing enemy ships to dodge slightly. Assuming the missile is accelerating at 28Gs(274.68m/s^2) (I found it googling 'missile acceleration', it's for the AIM-9E and 9J missiles), it will take a missile 14,562 seconds (242.7 minutes, 4 hours) to reach this velocity. But, because a nuke is a missile, it only has a limited amount of fuel (the AIM missiles above had 2.2 seconds worth of fuel for their 28G acceleration, to put it in perspective). Practically, this means nukes have to be extremely close (in terms of space combat) in order to even have a chance of hitting the target, even if you bump things up a bit to account for future technology. This also means that, in the same time it takes to fire a nuke, have it reach the target, and detonate, you can have multiple nuke-yield mass accelerator shots (dreadnoughts fire every 2 seconds), all of which have a much higher chance of hitting from the same distance (assuming good fire control) because they are going faster so the target has much less time to maneuver out of the way.

Third. Nukes are vulnerable. Mass effect ships have things called Guardian lasers. These kilowatt lasers are capable of melting parts of an enemy ship, engaging enemy fighters… or detonating/disabling missiles, nuclear or otherwise, before they get close to a ship. Now, this may not necessarily mean the missile is out of the nuclear damage or EMP radius, but there is a chance that such laser could damage detonation abilities, so you won't be able to set a nuke off every time if it is disabled.

So, final analysis:

Until someone invents a nuke capable of surviving the extreme G forces of a mass accelerator cannon without detonating in the tube, nukes are useful only in a fighter capacity; they take too long to travel and are too vulnerable to be fired at any range less than point blank, which only fighters and perhaps frigates will close to. In this regard, they are a very, very mixed blessing; damage will indeed be huge if the nuke detonates anywhere under 100 kilometers of a target, but then again, the ship that launched the nuke will likely not live to see the results.


	3. Chapter 1

_Jorge S052_

_Adorned with battle scars of wars past,_

_His armor told the story of a true Spartan._

_A testament to the conflicts waged over decades,_

_He inspired Noble in their darkest hour._

_And with his hardened voice ringing louder_

_With each Covenant salvo on his homeworld of Reach,_

_The destiny of Noble Team was realized_

_And the survival of humanity secured._

_In recognition of this, his endless courage,_

_We honor him as the fighting spirit of Noble._

_Monument to Noble Team_

The thunder of the machine gun echoed off the walls for a moment after it had stopped firing. The little grunts had never stood a chance against the armored giant, why their Covenant leaders had insisted on sending the creatures to their doom was something Jorge had never understood.

_But I'm not going to complain about it,_ Jorge thought to himself. The Covenant was far more powerful than any enemy humanity had ever imagined. But for some reason they liked to limit their potential- stupid tactics at times, suicide runs that accomplished nothing, broadcasting tactical information on unencrypted channels. They were still too powerful to be beaten, but the UNSC exploited every little advantage it had to make the enemy pay for every world that was glassed.

The sound of a needle rifle ceased in the background as Six finished his kills. Area was clear. Jorge set his gun down and headed to the pelican to check on its precious cargo.

"Distance is closing on this vessel's refueling track with the Covenant Supercarrier," Auntie Dot's computerized voice intoned.

He barely even looked at the destroyed thruster on the pelican. It wasn't moving for the rest of its life, all the Marines they had brought aboard had not come back from the bridge with Six so he assumed they were KIA. Fortunately, he and Six could get back to with the help of the orbital re-entry packs they had brought. All he needed to do was arm the bomb and then the carrier would be gone.

"Seventy-six seconds to end point," Auntie Dot finished. Jorge punched 70 seconds into the touch screen panel that controlled their makeshift bomb, then hit enter. He was greeted with an error message.

-: WARNING :-

CANNOT COMPLETE OPERATION

TIMER NOT FOUND

-:WARNING:-

"Damn it," Jorge swore under his breath. The left half of the computer had taken a plasma hit that had partially melted the casing. He hit the button for the autotimer, hoping the error message was false. The computer beeped and displayed the error message again.

"So... it's going be like that," he said to himself. One of them would have to physically set the bomb off. Either him, or Six. A moment later, the decision was made. Him. He hit the computer for good measure. Nothing.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news," Jorge announced as he turned to Noble Six. "This bird took some fire and our thruster gimble is toast, which means the only way off this slag heap, is gravity."

"And the good news?" Six asked. Jorge grimaced under his helmet.

"That was the good news."

"At current velocity, fifty-three seconds to..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jorge interrupted Dot. Reaching up, he undid the seals to his helmet and took it off, letting it drop to the floor behind him.

"Bad news is, timer's fried. I'm going to have to fire it manually."

"That's a one way trip," Six noted grimly.

"We all make it sooner or later," Jorge replied with a humorless grin. It quickly vanished. "Better get going Six, they're going to need you down there."

With a quick yank, the dog tags around his neck had snapped. He held them in his hand, holding his hand up for Six to take.

"Listen," he said as Six grasped his hand. "Reach has been good to me. Time has come to return the favor. Don't deny me this."

And with that, he hefted Six into the air one-handed. Duck walking over to the barrier shield, he said one last thing to the last human he thought he'd ever see.

"Tell them to make it count."

A simple shove and Six was gone, through the barrier and falling towards Reach. Jorge watched as Six fell, quickly disappearing into the distance, swallowed by the black void. Reach... it was beautiful from up here. He simply stared for a few moments, taking in the green and blue ball that he had called home for the last time.

"Twenty seconds to end point," Auntie Dot's computerized voice intoned.

"Yeah, yeah," Jorge replied to nobody. Walking to the cannibalized slipspace engine, he keyed up the sequence of commands that would send him, the corvette, and half the super carrier into slipspace.

"Ten seconds to end point."

Jorge bowed his head. Visions of the past swam before his eyes, visions of childhood on Reach, of Halsey and the other SPARTAN IIs, of his first battles, of Noble team. He looked up after what seemed like a lifetime.

"Give Halsey my regards, Dot."

"Affirmative. Initiate slipspace rupture now."

He hit the button. And was engulfed by a ball of black surrounded by brilliant light.

-{()}-

Jorge wasn't dead, or at least he didn't think he was. Heaven couldn't be the interior of a Covenant Corvette with a beat up pelican in it. And this wasn't oblivion, either, he was still very much aware. No, he was merely in slipspace.

A look out the barrier confirmed it- there was nothing, that telltale black of blacks that ships entered when they traveled from one place to another. Curious, he looked at the computer.

With no destination programmed, he had no idea where he was going. And the computer didn't either. All he knew was that the computer was counting down- in five hours, something would happen. Maybe he would actually go somewhere, or maybe at that point the generator would give out and the corvette would simply vanish.

"Five hours," Jorge muttered to himself. Five hours. Normally he would be in cryo stasis for that time. Five hours of sitting around, doing nothing. Not even a deck of cards...

"Wort wort wort!" came an exclamation from an open door. Whirling, Jorge saw the top level door was open, an elite with a sword pointing at him. Grunts poured out behind him, along with several jackals and a few other elites.

Jorge smiled to himself as he scooped up his helmet and ran to his machine gun. Of course there were more of the bastards on the ship. It may not make any difference now, but as a Spartan, he refused to go down without a fight. Green balls of plasma began to fly as he reached his gun, their trajectories wild. As he brought the modified machine gun up, blue balls began to fly, some impacting his shields. He shrugged off the hits and depressed the trigger. Yellow flashes came from the muzzle of the machine gun, and once again the halls of the unnamed corvette echoed with thunder.

-{()}-

The colony world of Tempest was on the edge of Council space in the Attican Traverse. Taking its name from the Shakespeare playwright, Tempest was aptly named- the climate and weather conditions spawned constant thunderstorms and hurricanes around the equator, which would occasionally spin out towards the much milder climes of the higher latitudes that contained the majority of the Systems Alliance settlements. Even now there was a small rainstorm that was hammering the garrison outpost of Tempest.

Lieutenant Mitchell Carson was two hours into his six hour shift on the sensor systems. It was a vitally important job, he had been told, and he knew full well why. The Terminus systems were dangerously close, and every so often batarian-led raids would ravage the colonies in the Traverse. And it almost always was batarians that hit the colonies. The Hegemony had withdrawn from the Council in protest years ago, and everyone knew that they most likely funded the pirates that raided the Alliance colonies in the area.

What Carson didn't understand was why he was there in the first place. Yes, humanity did need to expand a little bit, but the problem was that they didn't have enough ships to give the colonies a permanent protective force. Which meant that instead of having a ship far above his head ready to blow away any pirate stupid enough to cross Tempest, he had to monitor a series of sensor buoys that would report eezo and thermal signatures... and then scream his head off when they detected pirates and hope the defensive fleet that was stationed several relays away would get here in time. It was a mistake, in his opinion. The Alliance was overextending itself. And these colonies were the ones that paid the price.

Everyone remembered Mindoir. How the slavers simply took everyone they could and killed all those who were unfit or fought back. Mindoir was the darkest hour in Alliance history, a complete failure to protect those that they were supposed to guard. The fleet had arrived once the batarians were entrenched, and were not easy to dislodge. The colony had been devastated, many dead or taken as slaves. The sensor arrays were supposed to give advance warning, prevent another Mindoir, but did they give enough?

A beeping shook Lieutenant Carson out of his daydream and back to reality. Hands played over the haptic interface in front of him. What he saw turned his blood cold. Massive thermal readings, right above the colony! A ship, dreadnaught size, was right above them! Carson wasted no time hitting the emergency alert and sending a priority distress call to the Alliance. But if this was an attack, it was already too late. How did this happen?

Carson's fingers flew over the haptic interface, checking logs on all sensor platforms. He found no record of any ship passing them. He quickly set them all a Level 2 diagnostic before checking for signs of tampering manually. Twenty minutes later, he sat back thoroughly confused. The quick diagnostic hadn't turned up any faults in any of the sensor platforms. Manual checking of logs on multiple platforms showed no signs of data erasure, tampering, or false data. It was as if the ship had simply appeared right above the colony.

A warning flash caught his attention. Bringing it up, he saw that the ship had entered the atmosphere. Puzzled, he alerted the garrison to prepare for ground action. A ship that size couldn't land... could it? Carson keyed in a sequence to project the path of the ship, so he could best alert the people and send the garrison there. What he saw confused him even more.

The ship was in an uncontrolled descent into the oceanic equator of the planet. Already the thermal sensors were detecting pieces breaking off as the ship was stressed and heated beyond its limitations. The Lieutenant didn't know what to do with that. There was definitely something strange going on. With that in mind, he keyed up an audio link to the commander of this garrison, one Captain Donald Finch.

"Status report," the Captain growled into Carson's ear.

"Projected path of the unknown is into the sea. Thermal recordings show multiple smaller readings, all headed along the same path. Sir, I believe the ship is breaking up," Carson reported.

"What? Are you certain, Lieutenant?"

"No sir. But the unknown shows all signs of an uncontrolled descent into the ocean, complete with breakup debris. Also, sir, the unknown is not transmitting any recognizable IFF, but is recognized by the computers here as a spacefaring vessel, dreadnaught size," Carson reported. There were several moments of pause.

"Lieutenant, when this is over I want a full report on this issue. If nothing is going to hit land, I'm calling this a wreck and letting the Alliance handle the salvage issues. Is anything going to make landfall?"

"I am currently tracking one object that is projected to make landfall, sir."

"Send me the coordinates, and if nothing else makes landfall you signal 'all clear' and request a ship come to investigate. Finch out."

-{()}-

Jorge, helmet in the crook of his arm, watched the slipspace bomb computer countdown. Thirty seconds.

The five hours had been grueling in some ways, boring in others. After defeating a few attempts to kill him, Jorge had decided that he was going to cripple the vessel he was on, so that if it ever actually emerged from slipspace it would be unable to harm anything. To that end, he had fought his way through light resistance to the bridge, where he found a mere handful of elite minors and majors at the controls. Once they had been dispatched without any problems, Jorge began to attempt to cripple the ship. He knew enough to activate the engines on overdrive, fusing the ports at the rear of the vessel in place from the heat. He also knew enough to disable the weapons systems, though he didn't know if they were merely shut down or permanently disabled. To make certain that the vessel wouldn't be controllable when it came out of slipspace, he systematically smashed everything that even remotely looked like a control panel. He left the room a few hours and several desperate attacks later looking like a bomb had gone off.

When he got back to the hanger he found a small squad of zealots poking around the pelican. It was the hardest battle he had fought so far. His only saving grace was that he managed to kill the lone zealot wielding a concussion rifle before they knew he was there, making the threat one-dimensional as the other three had swords. A game ensued for the next half-hour; Jorge would stay in the open and open fire on any zealot charging him. The zealots would dive out of the hail of fire and try to lure him into closer quarters, where their stronger shields would allow them to close without being torn to pieces.

He killed one before they decided on more aggressive tactics and both charged him at once. He forced one into cover, but the other got close enough that Jorge had to dodge. The zealot was skilled and faster than Jorge, only his Spartan reflexes allowed him to dodge the horizontal slice that would have split him in two. While the elite recovered from his swing Jorge rammed the barrel of the gun into his midsection and fired. The shields dropped before the zealot twisted out of the way for another slice. Jorge stepped into it, dropping his gun to block the sword arm with one hand while pounding an uppercut into the elite. The zealot dropped. Jorge slammed a boot into the zealots' sword arm, and heard the crunch of a breaking bone and armor as the zealot gave a cry of pain and frustration. Grabbing the sword from the limp fingers, he cut the elite's head off.

The second charged, and for the briefest time Jorge was in a sword duel. He ended it by cutting off one of the zealots' legs. Off balance, it flailed wildly in an attempt to keep balance before going limp with an energy sword through its chest. There were no more attacks after that. Nothing came near the hanger after he defeated the zealots, so he waited out the remaining hours, alert but alone.

And so he was alone with his thoughts during what might be his last moments of life. The countdown reached ten in silence, the digital digits whirling as the bomb counted down... 05... 04... 03... 02... 01... 00.

Reality winked into existence in his peripheral vision. It was no longer black, but black with dots. Turning, he saw a planet, white and blue and green. He didn't recognize it immediately, but it wasn't Reach. With a smile, Jorge sat himself down on a purple cargo container.

"Looks like you beat the odds again," Jorge mumbled to himself. Outside, the planet began to slide away, being replaced by stars. The massive engines were burning fuel, and with no control they were going wherever they were pointed. From the way that the planet had disappeared off the port, Jorge guessed that the ship was headed towards the planet.

Getting to his feet, the big man turned and entered the damaged pelican, searching for something. A moment later, he returned, a metal mass that read "M-Spec Reentry Pack" on the back. Smiling slightly to himself, he set it down next to his machine gun on the deck.

"Might have a chance after all," Jorge muttered. Sitting down to relax, a shudder ran through the deck. A few minutes later, it became obvious that the ship was indeed entering the atmosphere. There was a red glow beginning on the parts of the corvette as it heated from friction.

_Time to go,_ he thought to himself. Stooping, he fitted his helmet over his head with a hiss, attached the reentry pack to his back, and hefted his machine gun with one arm. The planet was once again sliding off to the side, the disabled engines pushing the corvette into a spin. Wait.

The next time the planet filled the hanger opening, Jorge didn't hesitate. Clutching the machine gun to his chest, he leapt into the void.

-{()}-

Captain Finch and two squads stepped out of the transport shuttle to the area that Lieutenant Carson had indicated. His armor was immediately wet, the area grey under a sleeting rain.

"Secure the area, find the unknown," he barked at the squad of men behind him. The 2nd Lieutenant snapped off a quick salute before barking more orders at his men. All held their weapons, safeties off. They fanned out into the rain while Finch stayed with the transport. It wasn't long before the Lieutenant was back.

"Sir, we've found the object. No contacts. This way, sir."

Finch noted the scar first. The object had not come in soft and had left a noticeable skid across the wet ground. Next was a large gun, stuck into the muck that passed for the ground here. He recognized the size as that of a heavy machine gun or larger, what type he couldn't tell. Two privates stood near the hunk of metal, studying it, and Finch went over to them now.

"What have you got," Finch asked, studying the gun that was buried in the ground.

"Not quite sure, sir," one of the privates responded. "Obviously a heavy gun of some sort, but no computer interface, no eezo readings, no magnetic rails. Johnson here collects antique guns, you know, from a hundred years ago. Has some of the features of those old style guns, but he doesn't recognize it. Very heavy, it'll take at least two men to carry it."

Finch nodded before heading towards the second, larger grouping of marines. A large object, brown and yellow colored, could be made out through the sleeting rain. The marines silently made room for their commanding officer to see the object of their interest.

At first Finch assumed it to be a heavy mech. It was large, if it stood upright it would tower over the men, around the height of a YMIR. Through the patter of the rain, however, he began to notice differences. The armor was heavy, but the figure was not entirely covered- the armpits, insides of the thighs, and various other small points were instead made of a black substance. And what looked to be the head, seated above the angled chest, looked more like a marine helmet than the sensor platforms that a mech would need. On the figures back, jutting over the helmet slightly, was a blocky shape that Finch might have called a backpack. If it was capable of wielding the gun they found, Finch was glad it was inactive or unconscious right now.

"Opinions," he ordered. Most shrugged their shoulders.

"Looks kinda human," one marine commented.

"No way a human coulda survived that," another commented. "Gotta be an alien. Or a mech."

"It's human of some sort. Look, all the letters are standard English!"

"No eezo readings, but beyond that..."

"Right," Finch said as he turned. "Lieutenant, alert the locals. I want salvage gear up here..."

"Sir!"

Finch took one look and brought his gun up as he backed away quickly. Whatever it was, it was activating or waking up. The other marines did the same, forming a loose circle around the creature/machine, weapons at the ready.

For its part, the helmet turned and froze for a split second. Then, scanning around, it found Finch. Slowly the creature stood to full height, towering over the men in the sleeting rain. It kept its arms raised, unthreatening.

"Chief Warrant Officer Jorge 052," an accented voice said in English. "Mind if I ask where I am, Captain?"


	4. Chapter 2

Jorge didn't know what to think. His world was in chaos right now.

The men, commanded by a Captain Finch, had never heard of the UNSC. He had never heard of the Systems Alliance. The date was well before he was born. The technology was (so far) similar- sort of, but fundamentally different on almost every level.

And nobody had ever heard of the colony world of Reach, nor its fate.

Finch had been kind enough (or intimidated enough?) to let him keep his armor on. Or maybe he could sense that it would take more than all the guns on this world to try to force it off Jorge. He hadn't let him keep his machine gun, which Jorge had very nearly made an issue of until it had been pointed out that the gun had been damaged, the barrel warped beyond repair from the strain of landing. Beyond that, Jorge had no real protests against Finch. He'd provided rations and a place to sleep, for which Jorge had been supremely grateful.

He'd been tired enough to sleep peacefully, though he awoke every time someone came near him as a matter of caution. These people could be insurgents, for all he knew, though he didn't get the feeling that they were. No, something else was going on here, but whatever it was, he couldn't place it yet.

A small blocky object came into view in the atmosphere. It quickly became the outline of a shuttle similar to the one that had picked him up. It landed on the landing pad a short distance away while Jorge and Finch watched. When the door gull-winged open, a man in what must be a dress uniform stepped out. He made his way quickly over to where the two men were standing, eyeing Jorge with curiosity.

"Captain Wu, of the cruiser _Madrid_."

"Captain Finch, commander of the garrison," Finch replied, shaking the man's hand. Wu was quite obviously of Oriental descent, standing in stark contrast to the European features exhibited in Finch. The hand now extended towards the helmetless Jorge. Switching his helmet to his left quickly, he grasped the proffered hand.

"Chief Warrant Officer Jorge S052," Jorge supplied.

"Ah, yes. We have been sent to pick you up and take you to Arcturus Station for a debriefing. Please, come with me."

-{()}-

"Captain, is this really necessary?"

"Yes. We must make certain that you harbor no unknown diseases. The Admiralty has also requested that we begin a medical file on you for reference purposes," Wu replied amiably. "So please, remove your armor and follow all instructions provided by Doctor Harper."

Wu then turned and exited the armory, leaving Jorge to look uncertainly at the doctor in question. European features, but a hint of Oriental and a tanned skin betrayed a more mixed heritage. Age... maybe as old as him, hard to tell. She smiled up at him, showing pearly whites.

"Jorge..."

"Please, Warrant Officer, not Jorge," he corrected quickly. Part of his Spartan mentality, names were private, almost sacred.

"Alright, Warrant Officer, if you could remove your armor, we can begin," she smiled. Jorge hesitated, loathe to be rid of his armor in an unknown ship.

"Is... something wrong?"

"I'd prefer not to leave my armor unattended," Jorge replied.

"If it will make you feel more comfortable, we can remove and store your armor in the medical bay while you are examined," she said kindly. Jorge hesitated a moment more, then nodded his assent. He could keep an eye on it that way, at least.

"This way."

Jorge ducked his way through doorways, their panels perilously close to his head. The few crewmen on the way to the medical bay gaped at him before resuming their duties. As usual.

"Here we are," Doctor Harper said as she entered a doorway. Jorge ducked in after her, and saw a number of medical beds, lined along one wall, with a few others that looked a bit more comprehensive on the other wall. The doctor sat down at a computer station that flashed an orange screen at her.

"When you have your armor off, please take a seat on this bed," she said, indicating a more advanced bed opposite her.

Jorge hesitantly began the arduous process of getting his armor off, wary of any sort of trickery or foul play. He saw none as he went through the process of shutting down and removing the bulky, heavy armor. Sitting down on the edge of the bed in nothing but the wicking one-piece undergarment that the armor required, he felt naked. He also noticed that he didn't exactly smell like a batch of roses, he hadn't showered or anything since Reach.

Medicine may advance, but procedures don't really need to change. Harper offered him a faint smile as she began to look him over, checking for any missing digits or obvious physical deformities.

"Anything I should know? Any allergies, operations, joint injuries? Any loss of eyesight from that scar?" the doctor inquired as she reached over her head and began to manipulate his arms, testing flexibility.

"No ma'am." She stopped for half a second at that.

"I know some soldiers might like to believe I'm their mother, but I'm not," the doctor replied with a faint grin. She was examining his legs now, kneading his right calf as she examined his leg. Jorge instantly made the connection, and suppressed a sigh.

"Sorry, I didn't mean 'mom'. That's just how I pronounce 'ma'am'," Jorge explained, pronouncing each letter in 'ma'am' with deliberate clarity.

"Ah. I've never heard that particular kind of accent before, where did you pick it up?" she asked innocently as she walked to the stand behind him.

"My hometown was of Hungarian descent," Jorge replied cautiously. She was returning now with what appeared to be a stethoscope.

"Really? I don't particularly hear a heavy accent. Breathe in, let it out slow."

Jorge did as she asked, then again when she asked for another. Satisfied, she removed the stethoscope from her ears.

"I wouldn't know. I've spoken English since around age six," Jorge replied. An orange flash startled him, and he grabbed for the source with superhuman speed. He found himself holding the doctor's arm, a sheath of orange around her forearm.

"What is it?" he asked, unable to contain himself as he examined it. He saw words on the orange...

Reaching up, she gently pried his fingers off her arm before holding it up for him to inspect. She looked a bit disconcerted now, wary.

"It's an omni-tool," she supplied.

"What's that?" he asked, staring into her eyes. She seemed to get flustered.

"It's a computer on your arm," she said slowly. Her eyes betrayed her confusion. "Mine is loaded with medical programs so that I can take your pulse, temperature, and other such things just by scanning you."

"That thing can scan? Under the skin? Heartbeat?"

"Yes, like this," the doctor replied. She ran the orange covered arm up and down his torso as he watched. It responded to her touch commands, interestingly. She looked up at him suspiciously.

"Care to explain how you have ceramic bones?" she asked.

"Classified," was Jorge's immediate answer. He received a raised eyebrow in return.

"How about the electrical conduction material I'm seeing instead of nerves?"

"Classified." The doctor sighed heavily.

"I'm not going to get any answers from you, am I?"

"No ma'am."

-{()}-

The captain had given him private accommodations, much to his surprise. It would be another day before they arrived at this Arcturus Station. The captain had kindly requested that Jorge stay in his room as much as possible, something Jorge was only too happy to comply with. It gave him time to think, time to peck at the computer that had been supplied with the room.

What he was quickly learning was that this was no longer the world he thought it was. The probabilities of this whole thing being a setup were dying with each passing second he spent looking at the orange holo-pane in front of his naked eyes. Plots of treachery were voiced and just as quickly discarded. Conspiracy theories abounded in his head, all withering with every selection on every topic he made. An ugly suspicion was forming in his mind.

The Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine, or slipspace drive, was a temperamental piece of machinery. Jorge didn't pretend to be an expert, but from what he understood the drive created a wormhole between normal space and slipspace, allowing a ship to skirt around the issue of relativity by taking advantage of the different physics of the alternate plane of existance. But, if transition between two separate planes of existence was possible, why not a third?

-{()}-

Short chapter, I know. I've been reading everyone's reviews and trying to take that into account by revising the chapter's I've already written.

Thank you for reading and reviewing my story. Even if you don't review, it's nice to know my work is appreciated.


	5. Chapter 3

Jorge sat in the well-lit conference room in a dress uniform that felt like it would rip at the seams if he flexed. He felt nearly naked without his armor, without the comforting weight of the HMG at his side. He didn't like it, but it was the way life had been since he'd arrived at what was called "Arcturus Station" in this strange universe.

And strange universe it was. While some things were the same, such as humans, others were vastly different. He was, from his perspective, hundreds of years in the past. And yet the humans of this universe, as well as a number of as-yet unknown alien species, utilized dark matter to traverse the galaxy in an instant. He'd watched from the ship that had picked him up, seeing the giant blue ball of roiling blue energy in the massive tuning fork structure. A slight lurch, probably not even detectable to anyone but a Spartan, and then they were halfway across the galaxy.

By the time he had arrived at Arcturus, he knew he had some hard choices to make. There wasn't any foreseeable way home, nor did he really have an idea of how to get back to his universe. Even if they recovered the wreckage and somehow managed to restore completely alien (to them) technology back into working order, Jorge guessed that repeating his little slipspace bomb stunt wouldn't necessarily send him home. It could send him to another universe, for all he knew. So leaving this new universe was not really an option.

It was a hard choice, it went against all his training. But Jorge decided to cooperate fully with this Systems Alliance. He would tell them everything that he knew, give them everything that they wanted, and offer to help. His skills in the art of war were extensive, and surely someone would realize that. It had taken hours to explain everything, the longest and quite possibly the most stressful hours of Jorge's life- giving up secrets was hard. He didn't know if he could trust them fully, but once he had committed, there was no going back. He just hoped he had made the right decision to tell these humans what he was, and what he was capable of.

His thoughts were interrupted by a door opening. Jorge stood ramrod straight as a man, Admiral, walked into the room. The grey hair and distinctive scar across the right cheek immediately identified him as Admiral Hackett, commander of the Fifth Fleet. The man had been present at the latter half of his debriefing. The Admiral gave him a questioning glace.

"I would say 'at ease', Jorge, but you are technically a civilian right now," Hackett said in his distinctive tired voice. Nevertheless, Jorge only took his seat after the Admiral took his.

"I've read the reports, all of them. Quite a story. Being thrown from one universe to another was considered theoretical up until now, much less surviving the trip. Your presence alone confirms the multiverse theory. The scientists are going to have a field day when they find out about this."

Jorge remained silent as Hackett looked at him. For several seconds, Hackett studied him intently.

"I've never seen or heard of anyone or anything like you, Jorge," Hackett said softly. "If your report is accurate, and I'm certain it is, then you have seen more action than anyone short of a career Asari commando or Krogan battlemaster. The Alliance could use someone like you, Jorge."

"If this is permission to enlist, then I would like to tender my application immediately," Jorge replied. Serving humanity was still his number one priority. No matter the government, no matter the cause. Hackett smiled.

"I hoped as much. There are a few things that need to be taken care of, but given what I've read of your skills I'm sure that you'll pass with flying colors. Should you pass, the other Admirals agreed that you would be re-instated as Operations Chief, highest non-commissioned rank we can give you. They also agreed that you would be placed under my command."

Hackett took a deep breath. The man didn't seem like he usually spoke this much.

"Now, before we go any further, the Admiralty has classified your story, Jorge. Under no circumstances is anyone, no matter what credentials they have, to know about your parallel reality, your training, armor specs, or your enhancements, without express permission from myself. We're going to be playing this close to the chest, Jorge. You'll be getting a cover story soon. We want you to memorize it."

"Yes sir. I understand, sir," Jorge replied. Another smile.

"Good. Now, your first assignment is to learn your cover story and to familiarize yourself with our universe. You have five days. You've been given priority extranet access, so use it to familiarize yourself with whatever you wish, but I would be recommended you start with alien species. I know you must harbor a great resentment against non-humans, but I must stress that humanity has not been involved in a long or genocidal war with any known species, so keep any xenophobia out of your professional actions. Understand?"

"Yes sir," Jorge nodded. That might be a bit more interesting. Hackett nodded.

"Good man. Now, follow me and we'll get you set up with everything you need for the application process."

-{()}-

Because of his unique situation, Jorge found that Admiral Hackett had essentially become his personal assistant and mentor in addition to commanding officer. Hackett was a good man, the kind of Admiral a man dreamed of serving under- competent, forgiving, and genuinely concerned about the welfare and opinions of the men under him. Whenever Jorge wasn't intently studying information on the new omni-tool that they had provided him, he was at Hackett's side, being shepherded between various departments by one of the most powerful people on Arcturus Station.

This time, Jorge was slightly more excited about the destination. Rather than another MRI or medical scan, he was on his way to the Armory. Hackett had asked early on what type of armor and weapon he wanted, and Jorge had immediately requested his own armor back and a heavy machine gun.

There was only one man inside the Armory. He took one look at the door and chuckled.

"I was wondering what kind of monster would fit into that armor," the man smirked. "This way."

In the back, through a door that required security clearance from all three of them, was his armor. Disassembled, partially scattered, but undeniably his.

"Hell of a piece, this is," the man started. "Didn't know heads or tails about it when we got and still don't know much more. This stuff'll be blowing the scientest's minds for the next few years."

"Give us the rundown, soldier. I'm sure the Operations Chief would like to test out his armor," Hackett said with a smile.

"Right Admiral. I don't know how much you know about it but..."

"No need, Private. I've used this armor for years now, I know everything about it," Jorge cut off. The private gulped in surprise.

"Ohhh kay. Well, I suppose that takes care of most of the stuff. Makes this a bit easier. But anyways, we were requested by the Admiral to make a few modifications to your armor, so listen up."

"What kind of modifications," Jorge growled out. He looked suspiciously at Hackett, but the man was unperturbed.

"Basic so far," the man assured him. "I don't know how you got along without an omni before. We removed the left clip on armor bracer and replaced it with an omni-tool, so you've got that now. The only other modification we've been able to work into this so far is a medi-gel distributor, nice that we didn't have to carve out new channels. Beyond that, we haven't had time to do more than clean it up a little. Was going to get it a new coat of paint, but that can wait. Come on, let's get this bad boy on and tuned up!"

It took a while to get the armor back on, but to Jorge it was like going home. The snug fit of his armor, the comforting weight. The speed, the slight prick as the suit connected to his neural interface. Like he'd never left it in the first place.

Cradling his helmet in his right arm, he crooked his hand to activate the omni tool. A shifting orange display wrapped itself around his left arm. Satisfied, he deactivated it before catching sight of the other piece of equipment in the room. He grinned as he walked across the room to study the gun that was laid out on a workbench before him. It was big, slightly blocky, with a barrel poking out one rectangular part. The back was a bit blocky, but sleek compared to the M247 he usually carried.

"Unmodified HMG, the M-2 Legacy, as per the Admiral's orders," the tech supplied. "Triple heat sinks allow for extended periods of fire before cooling is necessary. Folds down for a typical soldier to carry, you shouldn't have any problems. Normally mounted on a tripod. Heavy, too. Not certain why you wanted this..."

Jorge responded by hefting the unfolded gun into the air. It was lighter than his older gun, easier to maneuver around. Still too heavy and big to shoulder. It was no M247H, but it would work. If he could get the tech to install one small thing...

"I'll take it," he said, turning to the man. "There's only one problem- I can't carry it right without some sort of handhold down the barrel."

"Well, yeah, this thing wasn't designed to be carried around like this..."

"They've never heard of me before. So I need some sort of handle around here. See? That way I can fire it from the hip."

The man just gawked at him. After a few moments he seemed to regain some of his wits.

"I... uh... sure, I think I could whip up a handle there that wouldn't interfere with anything."

"Do that, priority one, soldier," Hackett said kindly. "Now, a few of your scientist friends and a few of the other Admirals would like to see what that armor can do. It would be a shame to keep them waiting."

Setting the gun back down on the workbench, he picked up his helmet and put it over his head with a twist, hearing the seals hiss. A grin from the sheer pleasure of being back in his armor came over his face.

"Yes, sir!"

-{()}-

Jorge was relaxing on the edge of the bed in his bare quarters, reading some extranet material on his omni-tool. It was the longest he'd been in a real bed for years, and he had to admit he was enjoying it. Right now, he was brushing over the last details of his cover story and the reading that he had been assigned. He already had it all memorized, but he went over the material anyways to make sure he had it. That, and it allowed him to practice with his omni-tool some more. A chime indicated someone wanted entrance to his quarters.

"Come," Jorge said without looking up.

The door opened to reveal Admiral Hackett. The omni was shut off and he was ramrod straight- and nearly touching the bulkhead on the ceiling- in record time.

"At ease," Hackett said. Jorge relaxed his shoulders as he stood, hands loosely at his sides, waiting for further orders. But Hackett didn't motion for him to follow. Instead, he held up a data pad.

"Your marching orders, Op Chief," Hackett said, holding up the pad. "Wanted to brief you myself."

"In here, sir?" Jorge asked.

"I'll be brief. I didn't want to drag you half way across the station again for a five minute briefing."

"Yes, sir."

"All the details are in the pad you hold. You're being assigned to a ship, the _SSV Normandy_, under the command of Captain David Anderson. To everyone else, you are assigned as the heavy weapons specialist, ground team, under the command of Lieutenant Commander Shepard. But the real reason is far more important. What do you remember of Council SPECTREs?"

"Picked from Council member species. Given a license to ignore the law. Sent on any missions the Council deems appropriate, from military attacks to investigations. In short, the long arm of the Council."

"Good to see your studies are going well. All you said is true, but there's more to it than that. It is also a stepping stone to induction into the Council. If humanity gets a SPECTRE, then a Council seat may well follow. We've been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. This is our chance. A turian SPECTRE named Nihlus Kryik has expressed interest in seeing what a human can do. And we've got the perfect person."

"Who, sir?" Jorge wasn't even in this universe for a week and they were offering him up as a political play?

"A woman named Jane Shepard, your new CO." Jorge blinked but said nothing. "She's the best the Alliance has to offer to the SPECTREs. But she can't do it alone. That's where you come in. We want to follow Shepard's orders to the letter. Make her look good. She's the best chance we have at getting into the SPECTREs, one step closer to a Council seat. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jorge replied. Hackett smiled.

"Good man. There are profiles on all the men and women you will be working with on the pad, just scan it with your omni-tool and it should pick them right up. Also, a profile on Nihlus. One thing about him- he might try to pull the SPECTRE card to make you cough up the truth if he doesn't believe your story. He tries to do that, tell him to talk to me. Captain Anderson has been briefed on your situation; he can screen you from anything serious."

"Thank you, sir."

"Good luck, Jorge," Hackett said, extending his hand. "I know you'll get the job done. Let me know if you want anything before you leave. Cast off is at ten hundred, Bay 142. Your weapons and armor are being loaded as we speak. Enjoy your last night on the station, Chief. You've earned it."

-{()}-

A chime from the omni-tool on the bedstand woke Jorge in an instant. 0600 hours. Enough time to get a quick workout in before he reported to the _Normandy_. With that, he put on some of the workout clothes he had been provided and headed towards the gym.

Jorge wasn't the partying type, and didn't particularly wish to interact with the local civilian population, so he had contented himself with studying more information on his omni-tool and examining the files Hackett had provided him.

Jenkins looked to be the typical wet-behind-the-ears marine, lots of training but no action yet. Hopefully he wasn't in for a crash course. Alenko was older, seen a little bit of action. Jorge was impressed that the man had killed a turian with biotics when he was still in training. It showed an instinct for survival, or for killing, both good in a soldier. Anderson looked to be a hardened veteran, and from the number of classified files he seemed to have been around the block a few times. Good sign.

Shepard was the last. From the ranking system, he gathered that an N7 was about as close to a Spartan as anyone in the Alliance could get. It was still a far cry from his considerable combat skills though, as indicated by her records. Her training was more akin to the skills shown by ODSTs. Tough childhood on the streets, then an even tougher trial-by-fire during the Skyllian Blitz. Her resolve was unquestionable. She could probably make SPECTRE without his help. Not that she had a choice, he had his orders. It would be interesting to see if she held up to his expectations.

Jorge finished his workout routine, ignoring the stares he had received ever since he had begun coming to the gym the second day of his stay. His omni chimed again. 0700. Perfect timing.

At precisely 0800 hours, Jorge walked his seven-foot four frame in a casual crewman's uniform into Bay 142, with nothing but a sack of clothes, dress and casual, slung over his back in a duffle provided to him. Everything else was already on the ship.

The _Normandy_ was unlike any vessel Jorge had ever seen before. The smooth, sleek lines reminded him of Covenant ships, but it lacked the purple hues that they loved to decorate with. Instead it was shiny new, the bottom half a dull black and the top half a brilliant white. It was longer than a Shortsword, but much shorter than anything Jorge had ever seen classified as a 'frigate' before. It bore no resemblance to the blocky constructs that dominated the UNSC space fleet.

He stopped at the airlock, guarded by a pair of marines, and allowed them to scan the newly-implanted chip under the skin of his right forearm. An authorization popped up on the marine's omni, and Jorge was motioned to pass. Jorge stepped into the airlock and heard it hiss as it sealed behind him. Before him... lay his new life.

-{()}-

Alright, so this chapter probably doesn't explain as much as you guys would like. I glossed over Jorge's debriefing on purpose, first because it was going to be long and I didn't feel it was a good part of the story, and two because I'm not entirely certain how I would have written it.

Jorge is trusting the Alliance because he has fully realized his situation- that he is completely alone in this world. He still wants to serve humanity though. So he's latching on to the closest thing that he found to the UNSC- the Systems Alliance.

What he told them is fairly limited- he can't exactly tell them how to build a slipspace drive, after all, nor exactly how he was augmented- he knows the affects, but not necessarily how it was accomplished. He essentially knows specs, but no science behind everything- they're going to have to work out the science themselves. He's a soldier, not a scientist. But then, he knows a lot of history, knows a lot of unknown alien races, stuff that they would still consider valuable beyond the technical specs and such.

So anyways, sorry for the weak chapter. Hopefully it ended on a better note- next up, meeting Shepard, and then Eden Prime! So please, read on, even if you didn't like this chapter -


	6. Chapter 4

Jorge waited as the airlock finished the decontamination procedure that it had refused to skip. With a hiss, the inner door slid open, revealing his first sight of the interior of the vessel. Ducking through the inner door, Jorge was immediately struck by how small the vessel was- it was only a few steps to the opposite hull at this point in the ship.

Glancing right down the hallway, he amended his observation. It was narrow, not small. The corridor was tall enough that he could walk without feeling the need to duck, and opened into a cavernous space, the center of which was dominated by a glowing representation of the galaxy. Crewmen milled about, checking pads and going about their business.

Jorge headed towards the open area, recognizing as he walked the face of Captain Anderson. The man was discussing something with a junior crew member. He caught sight of Jorge down the hallway and dismissed the crewmember before meeting Jorge at the end of the hallway. Jorge snapped to attention when he got there.

"Welcome to the Normandy, Op Chief," Anderson greeted, extending his hand. Jorge took it.

"Good to be here, sir," Jorge replied.

"Come on, let's get you settled in," Anderson said. He began walking towards the port doorway.

"Hackett informed me of your situation. I'm sure the commander will be glad to have someone of your skills aboard," Anderson continued as they walked down the stairs.

"This is Deck Two. Medical bay is to the right, sleeper pods down the center, my cabin on the left. The open area is the mess, you'll be on your own for meals. This way," Anderson supplied, stepping into the cargo elevator. The doors shut and the thing began to slowly descend.

"Deck Three is the cargo area and Engineering. I'm sorry to say that we don't have any sleeper pods capable of holding you, Jorge, so..."

"Please sir, Op Chief."

"Sorry. We don't have any sleeper pods capable of holding you, Op Chief, so we've set up a bunk for you down here. Hopefully that will be alright."

"I'm sure it will be, Captain," Jorge replied. The elevator stopped its slow crawl downward and the doors opened. Anderson began to head towards the port side of the ship, where Jorge could see a workbench and a number of lockers.

"This is where the ground team's lockers are. Everything you have is stored in here, except for your specialized armor. That's in a case by your bunk, on the other side of the Mako. Hackett also sent me standard issue armor fitted for you, for more public places like the Citadel," Anderson supplied. He looked past Jorge.

"Commander Shepard," Anderson supplied. Jorge turned and saw a woman, sizing him up.

"Shepard, this is your new specialist," Anderson introduced. Jorge held out a hand.

"Operations Chief Jorge Kadar."

"Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard," she replied. "I just got your dossier last night. I was hoping I could talk to you."

"I'll take my leave," Anderson said as he walked towards the elevator. Jorge looked down at Shepard, sizing her up now.

She was slightly shorter than average, which meant that on him her head barely reached the bottom of his chest. Looking down on his superiors was a fact of life for Jorge, as even among Spartans he was one of the tallest. He was impressed that her eyes showed no sign of intimidation or fear.

"What did you want to talk about?" Jorge asked.

"I've read a little bit of your file, but I'd like to hear what you think. Tell me about yourself."

It was the first time that Jorge could remember being asked that question, ever. His fellow Spartans knew him, the marines and ODST's didn't care, and his superiors had never cared either. It took a moment for him to shake himself and begin reciting some of his made up life.

"I was born in Hungary, 2142. Moved to the United North American States when I was six with my family. Signed up for the Alliance on my 18th birthday, marines. I was given to a top-secret project known as Project Spartan. I can't tell you more about it, but I was given significant genetic modifications and training. I received high level training in hand-to hand, demolitions, and a variety of other skills before the project was abandoned as too costly. Since then I've been doing various high-risk missions, mostly classified, before Admiral Hackett assigned me to your command," Jorge summarized. Shepard nodded. This was all probably stuff that was inside his profile.

"Alright. As my heavy support, what do you bring to my team?" Jorge chuckled a little.

"Exactly what the description says. I carry a heavy machine gun and enough demo charges to level a building. Any mission specialties- bombs, sensitive equipment, anything necessary- will probably be carried by me. My armor is a custom prototype platform, incorporating an experimental exoskeleton, and heavy enough armor to be considered a light vehicle."

Shepard's eyebrows went up a little bit at the last one.

"What else can you tell me about your armor?"

"Most of the material for the underlay is classified, but the heavy parts are solid titanium. The exoskeleton magnifies not only my strength, but my reaction times as well. The suit is technically considered "stealth" because it runs off a one-of-a-kind miniature fusion reactor rather than element zero, so no eezo readings. The shielding is also one-of-a-kind, a non-kinetic barrier based technology that can deflect energy weapons as well as bullets," Jorge summarized for her. She nodded approvingly, obviously thinking hard.

"Those are some impressive capabilities, Jorge. Any chance the rest of the Alliance will be seeing any of that tech soon?"

Jorge almost flinched when she said his name. But this time, he let it pass. Perhaps it was time to- very carefully- make some friends. And so far, Shepard seemed that she could be a good friend. So Jorge let it slide- for her.

"Unlikely, ma'am. Some benefits aren't worth the cost. The fusion reactor alone is bulky and heavy enough to not be practical general equipment. The entire package weighs over a thousand pounds when I'm in it," Jorge replied. Shepard sighed.

"Still, might be nice to be bulletproof. Thanks for your time, I've got to go oversee engineering while they run through the startup checklist," Shepard said.

"Ma'am," Jorge replied with a nod.

It took half an hour before Jorge was satisfied with the state of his equipment. His armor, newly painted, was stowed correctly. His bunk, mostly hidden behind the Mako, was in order. He was trying on his Alliance-issued Onyx armor when a young man approached the lockers.

"Whoa," he intoned. Jorge merely stared back at him for a second before continuing to put his armor on.

"Sorry," the man stammered out. "Shepard told me you were big, but... Jesus. Sorry, I'm Corporal Richard L. Jenkins, assigned to the ground team."

"Operations Chief Jorge Kadar," Jorge intoned as he fixed a gauntlet on his arm.

"I'm glad I'm assigned to the Commander," Jenkins rambled. "I never thought I'd be serving with anyone who had been awarded the Star of Terra, much less the Hero of Elysium. What about you?"

Another first for Jorge. Hero talk. Back in the UNSC, he was the big damn hero. And he'd never really liked the limelight, he was serving to protect his home, not to be a hero.

"Shepard seems to be a good commander," Jorge replied. "You're lucky you got her."

"Yea, I guess I am. We are. I mean, I've never seen combat before, but with Shepard here I don't think anything..."

Jorge allowed the private to ramble, possibly his nerves acting up. Before he could get back into the conversation, the lift doors opened. Turning slightly, Jorge tensed up immediately.

There, in the elevator, with a large container at his side, was the first turian he had ever seen in real life, and he had to admit that the man looked fearsome. The black armor blended into the lowered lighting of the hanger bay, the dull glowing accents of red standing. In stark contrast, the white paint covering the entirety of his face gave him an exotic, predatory look. As the turian- Nihlus- closed towards the lockers, Jorge forced himself to relax and to pretend that he had at least seen another turian before.

"Nihlus!" Jenkins exclaimed loudly. "Sorry, didn't see you," he said quieter, stepping back to make room for Nihlus to access his locker, conveniently located right next to Jenkins' own.

"Thank you, Corporal," he said, then began to coolly stow his various weapons, ignoring the looks he was getting from both Jenkins and Jorge. He was wearing his armor, and Jorge honestly thought that the man rarely took it off.

The flanged voice that Jorge had only heard in videos only added to the exoticism, the absolute alien feeling to Jorge. Up close, he saw the mandibles, and behind them, the sharply pointed teeth that came with being the apex predator on their homeworld.

"Is there a problem, Operations Chief Kadar?" Nihlus asked, turning to Jorge. The eyes fixed on his own.

"No sir," Jorge responded out of instinct. The mandibles flicked once.

It took all his willpower to quell the violent urge to punch the turian. He had spent a great deal of time becoming comfortable with at least the appearance of all alien species, but... prejudices don't disappear overnight. That simple flick of the mandibles instantly and uncomfortably reminded Jorge of an Elite's jaw, and he had to fight the urge to strike at what he considered a mortal enemy. It was not easy.

"What's wrong with him?" Nihlus asked Jenkins.

"I don't know..." Jenkins replied.

"Sorry, sir. I've had some bad experiences with non-humans in the past. What can I do for you?" Jorge said with an air of forced calm. Nihlus looked him over appraisingly for a moment before answering.

"Nothing. I won't take any more of your time," Nihlus intoned, then turned and walked back towards the cargo elevator. As the doors closed, Jorge let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"I... think I'll head to the bridge," Jenkins said uncertainly.

_This is going to be an interesting mission,_ Jorge thought to himself as he continued to assemble his Alliance armor. _Interesting and very, very long._

-{()}-

Alright, so here we are. I'd like to take this time to explain a little.

I looked up a Hungarian surname website and picked the name "Kadar" at random. Why Hungarian? It was mentioned that Reach was settled primarily by Eastern Europeans, and Jorge is shown speaking Hungarian in the video game, so that's my best guess as to his ethnicity.

We aren't going to see any halo tech beyond Jorge's suit, at least for the duration of the Mass Effect 1 storyline. Why? Because, first of all, Jorge is using his armor, so they can't actively study it, and two, science takes time. Mass Effect 1 happens over the span of a few weeks, maybe enough time to get a prototype out there, but there's no chance in hell that they can get a working model of everything out to all the soldiers of the alliance.

Aliens: Jorge has become familiar during his studies with aliens, and he does recognize that these are not the Covenant and are not outright deserving of hostility because of their race. However, he's still highly suspicious of aliens, and the turian mandibles are similar to an Elite's mandibles... hopefully Jorge can control himself.


	7. Chapter 5

Jorge kept himself busy before castoff by checking and tuning his equipment. In addition to his heavy machine gun, he had been delivered a standard-issue Alliance soldier weapon set, a sniper rifle, assault rifle, shotgun and pistol. While he had fired a number of these on Arcturus, he regretted that the_ Normandy _did not have a weapons range that he could go to. He would likely not use any of those weapons during missions, they would be carried while he was on the Citadel and other public places where a heavy machine gun was quite expressly unnecessary. While it was unlikely that he would need to use them, Jorge still wished he could become thoroughly comfortable with them in case he ever did need them. For now, he had to content himself with gauging their weights, the balance of the weapon, the sightlines along the weapon. He was undisturbed, as Jenkins had decided that he would go talk to the doctor and the rest of the crew was busying itself with last minute checks. Nihlus hadn't come back either, much to Jorge's great relief. While he was a non-human, from what Jorge had read on him he was at least deserving of respect, from his background if not his position. It would really screw things up for Shepard if Jorge knocked Nihlus out just for smiling at him.

"All hands, prepare to cast off," a voice intoned over the speakers. Collapsing the weapons, he stowed them back in the locker. A _clunk_ resounded through the hull, and with it a vibration in the deck as the docking clamps disengaged. They were off.

For his part, Jorge had no duty station while on the ship itself. He was strictly ground support, and as such he had no orders or duty station on ship unless given one by his commanding officer, Shepard. So, for the moment, he decided to familiarize himself with the ship. Activating his omni-tool, he paged through a number of files until he found what he wanted- a schematic of the _Normandy_. Examining the hanger deck, he saw the engine room aft. Looking aft, there was indeed a pair of doors on either side of the elevator. They slid open when approached, allowing him entry.

Inside, beyond the engineers conversing at their stations, was a blue ball, wreathed in light, three armatures rotating around it constantly. _The Tantalus Drive Core_, his omni read, _is the heart of the ship. Larger than many other drive cores, the Tantalus powers the ship and allows for near-silent running thanks to its ability to create mass concentrations that can propel the ship without the use of thrusters. The Normandy may be a cooperative breakthrough, but the Tantalus is the engineering breakthrough that will affect the design of ships for years to come._

Looking around, Jorge saw that this must indeed be the heart of the ship. The area was huge, nearly the size of the hanger bay. And everyone he saw was busy at some station or another- no one had even noticed him come in. Not wishing to disturb anyone, Jorge remained quietly near the door, examining every detail he could of the area. He quickly decided that if he would not enjoy fighting in the engine room- in addition to the uncovered ball of energy, there was no cover whatsoever. Turning, the door slid open again and Jorge left as silently as he came.

Poking at his omni, Jorge decided to risk exploring one more deck up, and hope that the turian wasn't there. Calling the freight elevator, he waited patiently as it spilled a few inhabitants before entering. He exited and headed past the mess towards the sleep tubes. Halfway there, he met Commander Shepard gearing up at a pair of lockers past the medical bay. Jorge snapped to attention

"Hello Jorge," Shepard casually spoke. She had put her leg armor on and was beginning to buckle the upper part. "At ease, Jorge, I like a bit more informal atmosphere."

"Yes Commander," Jorge replied as he relaxed.

"So what brings you up here?"

"Just getting to know the ship, Commander."

"Good. I wouldn't recommend going up to the command deck right now, Nihlus is there," Shepard remarked off hand. The snap as she finished buckling the armor on was the only sound in the silence. She turned to look up at him.

"I heard from Jenkins. Any particular reason why you don't like Nihlus?"

Jorge felt a twinge of guilt at that. He had no idea how she was able to do that to him, only his fellow Spartans and instructors had ever been able to make him feel guilty. And never in regards to an alien race; another first.

"Not Nihlus, ma'am. Turians in general," Jorge replied stoically. Shepard eyed him, silently searching his face and eyes.

"Why?"

"Classified mission. But I never saw turians the same way again," Jorge made up. He kept his face unreadable as her eyes bored into his.

"Can I trust you?"

"To the death," Jorge replied slowly. She examined him a moment longer before breaking contact, checking her armor to make certain it was secured.

"Good. I don't think I need to tell you what I expect from you."

"No ma'am."

"Right," she said, flexing her arms. "Don't get into trouble, I'd hate to have to bail you out of the brig first day on the ship," she said, flashing a smile. "In the meantime, carry on. We're headed to Eden Prime, should be entering the relay any time now. I don't think we'll need a full team for whatever we're doing this deep in Alliance Space."

Jorge merely nodded his assent. Shepard turned and walked up the stairs, leading Jorge alone to his thoughts as he walked down the rows of sleeping tubes. This violent reaction to turian expressions was dangerous in this universe, not just physically but politically. He would have to overcome it somehow, if only to prevent himself from punching every turian he saw.

As he stalked back down the rows towards the mess, his mind whirled with thoughts on how to accomplish this goal. It was in his mind as he examined the small kitchen area, finding silverware, cups, plates, and nutripaste. He was about to go see if the doctor was in the medical bay for a chat that he was sure was coming when he was interrupted by the loudspeakers.

"Ground team, this is Shepard. Prepare for surface action, briefing is in fifteen minutes in the cargo bay."

_Thought she said there weren't going to be any problems this mission,_ Jorge thought as he called the cargo elevator. _Nothing new there, I suppose._

-{()}-

Another short chapter, I know. I guess that's my style, that and it sure looks long enough in MS word. Ah well.

This is just a teaser, though. Anyone who's played Mass Effect should be shot if they can't guess where the next chapter is headed. As for anyone who hasn't played Mass Effect, rest assured that it will be more action oriented. And longer. Much longer than the chapters I've put out. It will be coming out on December 25. Consider it a Christmas present. Or a Holiday present, if you prefer.

On a side note, I messed up a little. In chapter 4 I mentioned Jenkins- well, I really shouldn't go off memory. He is Corporal Richard L. Jenkins, not Private Leroy Jenkins. So that has been fixed.


	8. Chapter 6

"Man, not even an hour out of drydock and things go wrong. Is that normal?" Jenkins asked to no one in particular. He, along with Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko, was working diligently to fit into his Alliance-issue armor in preparation for potential combat. At the moment, they were standing in front of the lockers, but they were speaking loudly enough that Jorge could clearly hear them behind the Mako as he put on his armor.

"Of course not. But it's nothing we can't handle, I'm sure," Kaiden responded. There was a noticeable pause.

"Where's Jorge? How do you miss a mountain?" Jenkin's voice asked.

"Oh come on, he can't be that big..." Alenko replied.

Even with his head start, Jorge was only just finishing fitting his armor. Whereas Alenko and Jenkins were able to leisurely put their armor on, Jorge was extremely rushed to put his heavy MJOLNIR Mark IV armor on in fifteen minutes. It just wasn't designed to be put on that quickly, without even specialized equipment. By himself, he was certain it would have taken him a lot longer than the 15 minutes allotted, but he had managed to wrangle some engineers to help him. It wasn't much, but under his direction they were able to do at least enough to cut the time to fit his armor in about half, for which he was thankful. The metal pack he carried, once filled with bullets, now filled with breaching explosives, was the last to be fitted. Tucking his helmet under his left arm and grabbing his machine gun with his right, he walked out from behind the Mako.

"Damn, just when I didn't think you could get any bigger," Jenkins commented. The Lieutenant merely stared at Jorge with an expression of awestruck shock. Reminded him of the marines when they first saw a Spartan. He carefully set the machine gun down.

"I don't believe we've met yet. Operations Chief Jorge Kadar," Jorge said as he extended his hand, a slight smile on his face.

"Staff Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko," he managed.

Behind them, the cargo doors opened. Out spilled three figures- the alien SPECTRE, Captain Anderson, and Commander Shepard. Nihlus headed for the lockers, Anderson and Shepard for the small grouping. Jorge put his helmet on, as much to hide his reactions to Nihlus as to finish prep for the mission, and snapped to attention. Alenko and Jenkins both got in a line beside him, also at attention.

"Lieutenant, is the ground team ready?" Shepard asked. A curt nod from Alenko.

"Good, at ease." she said. Stepping in front of them, she looked at each one of them, hands clasped behind her back. Her helmet, like the others of the ground team, was only partially concealing, with a see through visor over the eyes and the lower part over the mouth left open. Down her right arm was a red stripe on a white stripe, and on the chest a small white 'N7'.

"Alright team, good news is that the Alliance found an intact Prothean beacon on Eden Prime. Bad news is that the planet is currently under assault from an unknown enemy. It's our job to find that beacon and secure it for transport," Shepard summarized. With a precise about face, the commander turned to face Anderson.

"Your team's the muscle in this operation, commander. Go in heavy and head straight for the dig site," Anderson stated. A hydraulic noise, followed by rushing air, caused Jorge to look to the source- the cargo bay doors were opening. They were in atmosphere.

"What about survivors Captain?" Alenko asked. Very informal, Jorge noted.

"Helping survivors is a secondary objective. The beacon is your top priority," Anderson answered.

"Approaching drop point one," a voice chimed over the speakers. Outside the cargo bay doors, the scenery and wind was slowing down. Behind Anderson, the turian checked his shotgun.

"Nihlus! You're coming with us?" Jenkins asked, surprised. Nihlus didn't even look at them.

"I move faster on my own," he replied. The ship was over the drop point now, and Jorge watched the alien gait as he jogged to the lip of the cargo bay doors and jumped. Jorge had read up on the procedure that Hackett had provided for him- a seven meter drop, during which time suit armor was configured to make the person as light as possible. Jorge didn't have such a device, but then again, he could survive a seven meter drop without any problems. As soon as Nihlus was gone, the scenery tilted and moved again. Artificial gravity was a wonder- it sure didn't feel like he had just sheared a forty five degree turn.

"Nihlus will scout out ahead. He'll feed you status reports throughout the mission; otherwise, I want radio silence," Anderson finished.

"We'll get the job done, sir," Shepard replied.

"We are approaching drop point two."

"Good luck, Commander."

"Team, prepare to drop!" Shepard ordered. Rifles out, Jorge clutching the unfolded MG. As one they moved to the center of the bay. In front of them, the scenery once again stopped moving.

"Move! Go, go, go!"

And then they were falling through the air. Three gracefully, one not quite so much. Without the mass-lightening technology of his comrades, Jorge hit the ground considerably harder. Going to one knee to absorb the shock, he was scanning the area for any combatants that he might have missed while falling or that may have come out since he had jumped. The Legacy was ready, but there were no targets. Behind him, he heard three thumps.

"Area secure, Commander," Jorge reported. There was a small pause before the next orders.

"Good. Jenkins, you know the colony. You have point, lead us to the beacon. Alenko, you have right, I have left, Kadar brings up the rear. Move out," came Shepard's voice. Jenkins moved past, followed by Shepard and Alenko, spread out, covering their arcs. Jorge fell in a few steps behind them, planning to occasionally walk backwards to check their tail. A flanged voice came over the radio.

"This place got hit hard, Commander. Hostiles everywhere. Keep your guard up," Nihlus advised.

"Contacts!" Alenko sang out. Jorge, turned around, swung his gun to Alenko's arc for fire support as the Lieutenant fired his rifle. But Jorge saw nothing threatening in his arc, only the remains of something on the ground.

"Gas bags, Lieutenant," Jenkins corrected. Another one floated around some stony cover, and Jorge agreed that 'gas bags' was an accurate name. A mottled brown, they looked like fleshy balloons, their bulbous forms hovering a few feet of the ground. Completely harmless.

"Sorry Commander," Alenko apologized.

"Keep moving," was all she said in reply. And so they did. Shepard took point over a rise, taking a knee and motioning for the crew to come to a halt. Turning his chest so that he could check behind them again, Jorge saw nothing. As he turned back, Shepard gave the go-ahead to Jenkins. It was down a small hill, with a cliff on the far side and a rocky, steep hill on the other. Stone, shaped into rectangular segments, littered the area, providing decent cover.

He was looking the wrong way, checking the hillside for any signs of snipers or ambush. A whizzing sound combined with red blips on his motion tracker turned his head to Jenkins. In the air before him, a pair of small airborne drones had opened fire on the highly exposed Jenkins.

Spartan time kicked in for Jorge, the time when his adrenaline spikes and enhanced neural pathways rendered the world in slow-motion. He depressed the trigger before he had fully lined his gun up, starting the shower of bullets before his HUD targeting system showed the gun was fully lined up. The stream cleared Shepard's kneeling form and swung to the first drone, nearest to him. A few flashes of blue came from the shields before they dropped and the drone exploded in a shower of sparks. Jorge was already aiming for the other drone, trusting in the superior stopping power of the machine gun to take out the drone. Bullets flew through the air between the drones, before finally the slow stream connected. A flare of blue and then white as the drone's shields failed and it joined its brother as scrap. As the last piece of the wreckage hit the ground, the world resumed its normal pace. Jenkins, who had been hit numerous times by now, fell to the ground and did not move.

"Shit!" Shepard swore.

"No more detectable contacts, Commander," Jorge said.

"Kadar, you and I have cover. Alenko, check Jenkins NOW!"

Machine gun bouncing against his right thigh, Jorge ran in front of Jenkin's prone form, placing his starship grade battle armor between the team and where the threat had come from. Behind him, he heard the frantic attempts to save the poor soldier.

"Medi-gel distributed, Commander. Pulse is weak... fading quickly... trying a stim..."

He could only listen as the Lieutenant worked to save the man. In the end, it did not matter. Corporal Richard L. Jenkins was dead due to massive organ failure from multiple gunshot wounds. Another marine, swallowed by the demands of war.

"Ripped right through his shields, Commander," Alenko said. His voice sounded choked, strained.

"We'll see that he receives a proper burial. But I need you focused, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Kadar, you have point. Move out."

They moved up the slight slope towards the beacon, marked on his HUD, before encountering more enemies. Another pair of drones, easily dispatched now that the three of them were on alert. Jorge noticed that the drones did not target him first, but instead looked over his head towards Shepard and Alenko. Large trees loomed before them. The radio crackled.

"Got some burned out buildings up here Shepard. Lot of bodies. I'm going to check it out. I'll try to catch up with you at the dig site," Nihlus reported.

In between the trunks of the small copse of trees buzzed a few more of the automated drones. The three made short work of them. Just beyond the trees was a small valley. A green blip appeared on his motion detector display. It had taken a long time for the techs to successfully sync his omni-tool to his MJOLNIR computer, but the ability to call up Alliance data in a heartbeat using his neural interface made it well worth the trouble. The IFF indicated the kinetic barriers were taking damage, but there were no suit breaches yet.

"Help that friendly, people!" Shepard ordered.

The three of them burst out of the treeline to find the friendly, a female soldier in pink-accented white armor, in cover behind a formation of rocks. Beyond her was a pair of robots- holding guns. Obviously the hostiles, just as the drones were. Jorge didn't hesitate, and neither did Shepard or Alenko. The combined fire of a machine gun and assault rifle quickly destroyed one of the attackers, and the other fell to a combination of biotics and an electronic attack from Alenko. The motion tracker was empty. The soldier saluted as they came up- he saw surprise in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212th," she reported crisply.

"Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard, _SSV Normandy_," Shepard responded with a nod. "Report." The marine relaxed her attention pose, yet her muscles remained tense.

"Oh, man. We were patrolling the perimeter when the attack hit. We tried to get off a distress call, but they cut off our communications. I've been fighting for my life ever since," Williams regretfully reported.

"Any idea what we're up against?" Shepard asked kindly.

"I think they're Geth."

"The Geth haven't been seen beyond the Veil in nearly two hundred years. Why are they here now?" Alenko asked.

"Gotta be the beacon, Commander," Jorge replied with utter calm. Williams' eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, you're human? I thought you were a mech or..."

"Focus Williams," Shepard said. "We were sent here to retrieve the beacon. We need to find it. Can you lead us there?"

"Yes, Commander. It isn't far now," Williams assured them.

"Good. Kadar, you still have point. Move out."

Jorge moved forward, scanning for threats. His motion tracker identified two before they disappeared off the scanner. Detected? Or merely waiting for further orders? He passed a colonist, suspended in the air, impaled upon a spike which was attached to a small tripod like structure. Unfortunate, but nothing could be done now. After easily blowing through the two units Jorge had identified, the group reached the dig site where the Prothean beacon, the single most valuable find of the century, was supposed to be- only it wasn't there.

"I don't understand, it was here this morning. They must have moved it," Williams theorized.

"By who? Us, or the Geth?" Alenko asked.

"Hard to say," Williams answered. "But maybe someone at the dig encampment knows." Standing tall over the three of them, Jorge merely kept watch for any enemies.

"Then we make for the camp," Shepard sighed. "Move out, I have point."

Jorge lagged behind the others as they followed Shepard up out of the dig site and towards the dig site encampment. Partway through Nihlus radioed, telling them he would meet them at a small spaceport up ahead. Jorge paid it no heed, ambushes were more pressing right now. The encampment had obviously been attacked. A number of crates were scattered, their contents smashed, and there was a small fire sustained by dry grass near one of the modular units. But it was the sound of smooth metal sliding turned his attention towards the left side of the area.

"What are those... things?!" Williams gasped. Jorge had to agree.

The tripods here, like the ones he had observed earlier, had humans impaled upon their lengths. But now, they weren't human any more. An eerie blue glow came from their skin, metallic tubes sticking out of thighs, abdomens, mouths. Their lidless eyes glowed with a blue light, their skulls white as bone. These weren't humans anymore. And now the spikes were lowering, discharging their inhuman cargo with an electrical _snap._ The first simply stared at the group for a second. The next began a shambling run towards them.

"Take 'em down!" Shepard ordered. No one wasted time firing at the collection of shambling blue corpses, but they were stronger than they looked. Kinetic barriers, powerful enough to stand up to sustained assault, flickered to life as the husks drew fire from the party. One was down from the crossfire, but more were coming. The closest few began to arc electricity... before sending out an electrical explosion. The barrier indicators of his allies on his HUD blinked- they were vulnerable. Jorge, furthest back, had yet to be hit as Williams and Alenko began to walk backwards as they fired. But Shepard hadn't moved.

A pair of husks were drawing near her. He focused his fire, but the shields didn't drop fast enough. Shepard was about to get hit with a nasty electrical pulse, if he didn't do something. With two great bounds he was next to Shepard, and with his immense strength he pushed the Commander behind him- just as the husks arced electricity through the air.

The charge collapsed his shields and still had enough energy to arc to his armor. For a moment, he couldn't move, the electricity stiffening his muscles, coursing through his frame, bringing pain with it. A giant statue. And then it discharged to ground, and the pain was gone. Before him, the pair of husks, their discharge used, shambled towards him. One raised a glowing blue hand to strike. Before it could attack, before he could react, both were thrown backwards by a blue blast of energy- Alenko. Shepard's assault rifle chattered a few more times and then went silent. He'd never been his by such an attack before- plasma, plenty of bullets, occasionally a club or an energy sword, but electricity? It had never been weaponized. He was fortunate his armor had been hardened against EMPs, or else he might have been cooked. Or the computer could have been cooked. Black N7 armor came into view in front of him.

"You alright, Kadar?" Shepard asked.

"That hurt," was all Jorge replied as he tested his armor. It didn't seem that any damage had been done- titanium wasn't the best electrical conductor- and so far everything was responding to his neural interface commands...

"Thanks for the save, I owe you one. Take your time, we'll move out when you're ready."

"Commander," Alenko voiced. Shepard left his field of vision as Jorge, hands on his knees, recovered. It took a minute, and a few test stretches, but he was unharmed and his armor unaffected. Good as new. Grabbing his MG, he saw the rest of the squad was in one of the modular units. Voices could be heard.

"Have you seen a turian around?" Shepard asked as he entered. In front of her were two civilians, one red-haired woman and a gaunt looking, balding man.

"I saw him, leader of the enemy. He was here, before the attack," the gaunt man whispered loudly.

"I'm sorry, Manuel isn't himself right now. We haven't seen your turian," the woman supplied.

"What about the beacon?" Shepard asked.

"We moved it to the spaceport this morning. Manuel and I stayed behind to help pack up the camp. When the attack came, the marines held them off long enough for us to hide... they gave their lives to save us."

"No one is saved! The age of humanity has ended! Soon only ruin and corpses will remain... night is falling... the darkness of Eternity..." Manuel prophesized. Something about his voice put Jorge on edge.

"Hush, Manuel. Take your medication, you'll feel better," the woman said.

"Alright, we need to get to the spaceport. Move out," Shepard ordered.

"Ma'am, I think we should lock the two of them back in. In case the geth come poking around," Jorge stated flatly. She nodded.

"Good point. Alenko, lock the door behind us. We'll notify the rescue teams they are in there." An orange flash lit up her arm. She looked at it, then nodded.

"Spaceport's close. Should be a maglev station up ahead that'll take us there. Move out."

It was a small hill before the station. As they approached the crest, a shot rang out. A single, clear shot. Jorge glanced at Shepard, and while she looked slightly confused by a single shot, neither did she stop.

"Look at the size of that thing!" Williams exclaimed, drawing their attention to the horizon.

The 'thing' was a massive ship of some sort. It looked almost like a hand, a black armored gauntlet of old; the ship had multiple 'fingers' upon which it had landed, and changed to a thicker, wrist like area before tapering off as it continued higher. It stretched well up into the dark clouds that surrounded it, the lower parts wreathed in crackling red energy. As they watched the massive ship took off, baking some area of the colony as it ascended into the air far faster than Jorge would have thought possible for a ship that size. With the ship gone, the party continued. They had barely crested the hill when enemies showed up.

"Contacts!" Williams shouted. Before them were several geth at the station, their rifles already firing. In front of them were several more spikes, all with former human husks on them. His hope that they would be inactive died as the spikes descended, releasing their deadly charges.

Shepard had a sniper out and was taking out the far Geth. Ashley and Kaiden were engaging the husks, with assault rifle fire and biotics. Jorge too engaged the husks, letting his machine gun tear through the shields before Ashley finished it up. Kaiden worked hard with his biotics, and they with their guns- any who approached close enough to discharge themselves were violently thrown back by the man. By the time they finished up the husks, Shepard had taken care of the Geth. Jorge's shields hadn't even fallen. Looking at the station, something caught his eye. An alien body.

"Ma'am. Turian body, at the station. Doesn't look alive," Jorge reported. Shepard nodded and pressed towards the station.

"Damn," Jorge swore as he climbed the steps to the platform. The white facepaint was distinctive- Nihlus Kryik. The SPECTRE was lying in a pool of blue – it took a moment for Jorge to realize that it was his blood.

"It's Nihlus," Alenko voiced. Shepard stared down at the lifeless body, her expression dour.

"Something's moving behind those crates!" Williams warned. All four went to alert, only for a ragged looking human man to stagger out.

"Wait! Wait! Don't shoot! I'm human, not one of them!" he cried out. They all relaxed. Jorge knelt down by the body, intending to examine it. Nihlus, after all, was his mission- make Shepard look good for Nihlus. Being dead was going to complicate things...

"What are you doing behind those crates?" Shepard asked.

Jorge tuned out the conversation as he examined the body. The turian's forehead was a mess, the sand-grain sized bullet had exited there and left a fair sized exit wound. The mandibles were limp and lifeless, his eyes staring at the crate. Didn't look very shocked, but then Jorge didn't know how to read turian expressions. Keying up his omni-tool, Jorge attempted to access the turian's armor- and was unsurprised when he couldn't access the computer. He could take shield readings, and did. They came back at full strength, with no signs of any drain in the last twenty minutes. Odd. The blood was much fresher than that. Could that have been the shot they heard? If it was, then whoever had killed Nihlus had managed to put a weapon to the back of his head, inside his shields. How could any seasoned soldier have let an enemy that close? Standing back up, he rejoined the conversation.

"Your friend seemed to relax... he let his guard down. Then Saren shot him! Right in the back," the man stammered out.

"That fits, Commander," Jorge noted. "Nihlus was killed by a single shot from within his barrier radius." Shepard nodded, taking in the information.

"Hide yourself," Shepard told the man. He didn't even look back. "The beacon is still our top priority, not finding this 'Saren'. The spaceport is the next stop. We need to get to that maglev and get it moving." A pair of red dots blinked to life on Jorge's motion tracker.

"Movement ahead," Jorge said simply. All four instantly went to ready position. Shepard signaled Jorge to advance towards the bend that was obscuring the targets from view. He had almost reached the corner when a white flashlight head stepped around it and opened fire at point blank range. Jorge lashed out with a massive foot, kicking the geth over the railing behind it. Shields down twenty percent. Rounding the corner, he was greeted by another geth, a white one that let loose with a binary sound of some sort and fired at him. Once again at point blank range, Jorge advanced with a single step and swatted the geth into the wall with one arm. The machine dented and almost split in half. A boot to the flashlight head cut its struggles short.

"More down below. Williams and I have the lead, Kadar stay here and provide covering fire from the balcony. Alenko, behind us," Shepard ordered.

Jorge rested his machine gun on the railing in front of him and opened fire on the geth below, causing a number to shoot back at him. To his left was a ramp that led down to the maglev tracks, and before him, running from left to right, was the loading platform. At the end, cut off by a corner he couldn't see around, was the maglev train that could take them to the station, but the platform was filled with geth. The deep thump of the machine gun filled the air as Jorge raked the platforms below, covering Shepard's advance down the ramp.

For nearly a half a minute Jorge rained fire down on the targets below him, covering his squadmates as they got into position. One geth exploded from Jorge's machine gun. Another, forced out of cover by Shepard and Williams, was hit a number of times but managed to get to cover. A few more shots and then warnings blared on his HUD and his gun stopped firing. Even with triple heat sinks, continuous fire with a powerful MG racked up heat. He had to let it cool off. Stepping back from the railing enough that he was out of sight, Jorge silently cursed at the technology he held in his hands. Not for the first time, he wished he had his old M247 in his hands. At least that wouldn't overheat for a longer time, not with its cooled barrel. He briefly wondered if it would be possible to fit a liquid cooling system to the gun- and then it was ready to fire again. Mounting the Legacy on the railing, Jorge once again laid down withering fire on any geth he saw below.

Something big came towards Shepard from right, the front of the train, beyond where he could fire. It was a geth, he noticed as he lined it up- and it was running full tilt at the team! He concentrated on making every bullet count as the monstrosity barreled up to Williams. To her credit she didn't flee, but the metallic elbow she received made Jorge wince in sympathy. She flew backwards and didn't get up immediately. Jorge had stopped firing- they were too close now, any missed shots would hit Shepard or Alenko- and now thundered down the ramp, watching the battle unfold as he attempted to get there before there were any more casualties.

Alenko hit the geth with a blue wave, but the thing shrugged it off with merely a stagger. It did, however, allow Shepard enough time to close without getting hit. Jamming her assault rifle into the thing's midsection, Shepard opened up inside the kinetic barriers, allowing her gun to recoil upwards towards the head. A neat line of sparks and white fluid shot out the back to show her efforts, and the large flashlight head, almost as tall as he was, fell with a metallic _thud_. Jorge slowed to a walk, all enemies neutralized.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," Williams assured as she staggered to her feet. Alenko ignored her and ran his omni over her head.

"I don't know how, but no concussion. You're good, Gunny," Alenko reported.

As a unit they approached the maglev train terminal. Shepard activated the orange control, and the platform they were on slowly began to move along the tracks... towards where the ship had landed in the distance.

-{()}-

The ride took nearly ten minutes. Ten minutes of waiting in silence with the rattle of the maglev. For Jorge, it was time well spent as he analyzed the opponents he had faced so far, as he had been taught as a Spartan. The Geth seemed relatively fragile compared to him, but then most things did. Their shields seemed slightly stronger than average, compared to his teammates, and deathblows on an organic might not necessarily be so on a Geth, but bullets killed everything. Just had to fire enough of them. Beyond that, Jorge was a bit more concerned with what he didn't know about them. Electronic warfare? Hacking? Could they hack his comm channel and take control of his suit? That large geth was a different kind than the ones they had faced- how many other different models were there? What were their weaknesses? Questions that could only be answered by further research- in books or in firsthand contact with the enemy.

The maglev slowed as it reached its final destination. It looked deserted, and Jorge's motion tracker showed no enemies within ten meters- for the moment. He kept himself ready as he stepped of the platform.

"Demo charges!" Alenko warned. And indeed, on the ground of the loading platform was a metallic cylinder with a display indicating five minutes. Alenko rushed over, activating his omni-tool as he knelt down, hacking the software of the bomb. Ten pregnant seconds passed before the bomb's display blinked and shut off. Alenko let out a sigh as he turned to Shepard.

"I can disable them if we find them all. They have a tracking signature on them, I'll update your omnis. There's three more," Alenko reported.

"We don't have much time. Kadar, Williams and I will cover you. First beacon, move!"

They rushed up the ramp to the second story of the station with no contacts. Jorge was almost hoping they wouldn't be noticed- disarming bombs while bullets were flying was a hairy experience for just about anyone- but of course that didn't happen. As they crossed the narrow overpass to the other side of the station, red blips showed on his motion tracker. He didn't have to shout, everyone else simply ran that much faster. With his longer strides, he was the first to make it to the crate-filled open air corridor which held at least two of the bombs. The first was to his left, fortunately behind a buttress. But the other two were down the corridor, from which shots were already pouring at him. Moving up to the cover of a rib in the wall on the left, Jorge opened up, spraying the corridor and forcing a few geth behind cover. The chatter of two assault rifles to his right meant Shepard and Williams had joined the battle.

Two geth were down and Jorge had ducked behind the rib to let his gun cool a bit when Alenko gave a triumphant shout. Two down. Before them, more geth had arrived, forcing Shepard and Williams to cover.

"There's too many!" Williams shouted. Before them, a withering hail of geth fire drove her back to cover quickly. The current fire was too heavy for his teammates to go out towards the other bombs. But then, they didn't know Jorge.

"Alenko, get behind me!" Jorge called out. A second later the man was with him behind the rib.

"Alright, here's the plan. I'm going to be your shield, you follow me, got it?" Jorge asked. Alenko stared at him like he was crazy.

"Are you nuts?!" Alenko told him.

"We don't have time to argue. Follow me or we'll never get to the bomb in time."

And with that, Jorge stepped into the hail of fire, his machine gun spitting its own fire back, and began to walk purposefully forward. His shields fell within seconds, but by that time he had destroyed one geth and forced a few others to cover. Shields down, he turned to present his left, up-armored shoulder to the enemy, ducking his head below the armored collar that he had attached to his upper chestplate. He heard and felt pings and impacts, but nothing breached his suit yet. Another geth fell as he advanced forwards, not faltering for even a moment. As he reached the rib where the next bomb was, he stepped behind the cover it offered. Checking behind him, he saw that Alenko hadn't followed him... but Shepard had. She now picked up where he left off, leaning beyond him to take shots at the now thinner field of geth.

A familiar beeping in his ears indicated his shield was once again back to full strength. He held up a hand to Shepard, then indicated the corridor. She nodded and folded her assault rifle, switching to her shotgun. Jorge started a countdown at five with his hand. Four, three, two, one... then he stepped back out into the noticeably slackened fire, the Legacy firing constantly. As he plodded methodically forward, he would occasionally hear a blast from Shepard's shotgun take out something getting too close. Fire had slackened considerably now, proportional to the metallic bodies that were sparking on the deck. His shields failed as his gun tore a white armored geth in half. The last fell to Shepard's shotgun as it tried unsuccessfully to retreat from Jorge. The motion tracker was clear.

"All enemies down," Jorge reported.

"Alenko! Get up here and defuse these bombs YESTERDAY!" Relaxed, gun dangling from one arm, Jorge watched Williams approach with what seemed to be an expression of awe. _Just like every other marine who's seen a Spartan in action._

"I... wow... that was insane! I couldn't even stick my head out for more than three seconds and you just waltzed out there like it was nothing!" Williams whispered. Jorge gave the Gunny a nod.

"Just another day at work," Jorge replied nonchalantly.

"Then I'd hate to see a bad day at work," Shepard quipped. "Good job back there Kadar. Just make sure you can survive when you do that." A deep chuckle and a smile came to Jorge.

"Bombs disarmed, Commander," Alenko reported crisply. He too couldn't seem to stop staring at Jorge. Quite used to such stares, Jorge merely waited for his next orders.

"Good. Beacon should be around here somewhere, find it people."

It didn't take long. A shout from Ashley revealed it was merely around the corner. And was down a ramp that was guarded by a few geth and a number of the inhuman monstrosities.

"Kadar, you have cover from the top. Alenko, keep them from getting too close. Williams and I have point, go!" The battle was not long. There were few geth and only a handful of husks. They were quickly torn apart from the crossfire, and any that got too close were violently thrown away by the Lieutenant. Soon it was only them and the beacon, and secure enough that Jorge could relax and drop the heavy gun. The view before him was... unsettling- the enemy ship had blasted off just beyond the spaceport, and the sight of the charred land, still glowing red-hot, reminded Jorge uncomfortably of a glassing event.

"Normandy, beacon is secure. Sending coordinates, requesting pickup," Shepard reported over the radio.

"It wasn't doing anything like that before," Williams commented. Before them, the beacon, a thin pillar like object with a blocky base, was surrounded by wispy, green energy of some sort, constantly running up its length before disappearing.

"Someone activated it?" Jorge asked, taking off his helmet. Williams shrugged, concentrated on the beacon.

"Kadar, Williams," Shepard called. An about face on their part brought them around. "Secure the area, make sure everything is dead. Normandy's coming in for..."

She didn't finish her statement. Instead, her eyes widened, her expression alarmed, before she shouldered past Williams and took off at a sprint. Turning, Jorge saw why: Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko was being pulled towards the beacon by some invisible force, though he was resisting as hard as he could. Then Shepard was there, the smaller woman grabbing the man around the waist before spinning and throwing him out towards Jorge and Williams. Grabbing the man's arm, Jorge heaved him to his feet and secured him- but his attention was focused on Shepard now. Whatever had been pulling Alenko in had switched to her, and she fought a losing battle. Jorge took a step forward, intending to help, when she was heaved into the air, spread eagle, head thrown back.

"No! Don't touch her! It's too dangerous" Williams shouted at them. Alenko, who had also been ready to go to the Commander's aid, froze as well.

The three of them watched as Shepard was suspended in the air, waves of energy pouring off the beacon. A whine cut through the air, growing louder with each millisecond. And then the beacon exploded, throwing Shepard away. Jorge shielded his unmasked head with his arm as fragments pinged off his shields. In front of them, Shepard landed hard, then slid to a stop near their feet. As the remains of beacon snapped and crackled, Alenko rushed towards the Commander. Jorge slammed his helmet back on and brought his gun up to ready, turning to scan the area for hostiles. That could have been a trap, or it could have been loud enough to draw more geth or huskified humans to their location. With their commander down, they were vulnerable.

"Normandy, requesting immediate assistance! Shepard is down, repeat, Shepard is down!... Beacon has been destroyed, Captain... No, Nihlus is KIA, repeat KIA... Yes sir!" Alenko shouted into his radio behind Jorge.

"Kadar, Williams! Get to cover, engage any hostiles you see! Normandy's five minutes out, we have to hold until they get here!" Alenko shouted. Jorge heard Alenko begin dragging the commander. Williams took cover behind a crate near the stairs. Jorge stayed in the open, where he could see all avenues of approach, but ready to dart behind one of three different covers.

_Damn. The entire mission's gone to hell._

-{()}-

Alright, so I might be taking some liberties with how long it takes Jorge to get his armor on, but I really don't want him out of his comfort zone yet. So for the moment, I'm going to call it 30 mins to get the armor on, he really had to rush to put it on in 15. But I can't find anything on the wiki about how long it takes, and I haven't read any of the books, so I'm sorry if that wasn't an acceptable break from reality.

Jenkins died because he was a redshirt. Don't intend to sound mean, but hey, that's what his character was designed to do from the get go. Just like every security officer that beamed down with Kirk, just like the Carmine brothers in Gears. I didn't want to change it particularly. So Jenkins dies, just like in the game, and we (maybe) feel that Shepard and Co. are in danger.

On another note, it took a while to come up with this chapter, make sure it was to my liking. Expect similarly long chapters for the major missions that Jorge is taken on, and remember he won't be taken on all of them. Beyond that, I'm going to impose a minimum of 3000 words per chapter on myself.

As for the next few weeks- I'm sorry to say that I may not have much time the coming two to three weeks, so don't expect anything until around midway through January. I promise you I'll have at least one chapter done by then.

In the meantime, Merry Christmas (or Happy Holidays!) and Happy New Year!


	9. Chapter 7

Jorge reviewed the mission in his head as he went through the process of removing and storing his armor.

The mission had failed. Jenkins was KIA, the Council SPECTRE Nihlus was KIA, possibly by a fellow SPECTRE, and the beacon, primary objective of the whole mission, was destroyed. The colony spaceport had been partially destroyed by the vessel takeoff. There were civilian casualties, in the high double digits at the very least. The enemy, the synthetic Geth, had deployed never-before-seen technology that was capable of turning humans into cybernetic slaves in minimal amounts of time. Their objective appeared to have been intelligence denial, as they had prepared to destroy the spaceport to prevent the beacon from falling into the Alliance's hands. They had then vanished without a trace, the Normandy was the only vessel in the area and had not pursued. Things looked grim.

On the Normandy, the Captain was debriefing the conscious ground team one at a time. Shepard was still unconscious in the medical bay, under the watchful eye of Doctor Chakwas.

He had just finished stowing the MJOLNIR armor in the chest at the foot of his bed when Alenko, in crew slacks, came around the corner of the Mako. The man looked tired.

"Captain wants to see you, Op Chief. He's in his cabin."

-{()}-

Anderson was silent as Jorge related the mission, from his point of view, to the Captain for his report. He did not interrupt, merely looked thoughtful and took down notes on a personal terminal. It was only at the end that he asked questions.

"So... Saren. Did you ever see any turian other than Nihlus?"

"No sir," Jorge replied. Seeing another turian at all would have been quite an event for Jorge.

"And the only proof we have is from the dockworker?"

"Maybe not, sir. The scientist, Manuel, mentioned another turian, before the attack, but he didn't name him."

"I know. I don't doubt he was there, but without any proof..."

"I have the audio logs from both Manuel and the dock worker, sir."

"Send them to me, I'll add them to the report, but without definitive proof I doubt the Council will even give him a hearing, much less a trial," Anderson said vehemently. His apparent anger gave way to a weary sigh.

"Well, I suppose it could have been much worse. What's your opinion on Williams?"

"Sir?"

"With Jenkins dead, we're short a man on the ground team. I've debriefed the Gunnery Chief already, and I was thinking that she'd be a good substitute. But I want to run it by the rest of the ground team first." Jorge thought for a moment. She had shown skill, situational awareness, and bravery when necessary. She was no different than many other marines that could be picked, except that she had fought by Jorge's side- and survived. If he had been in his home universe, fighting Covenant, she would have his highest respect for surviving that long. As it was, she still seemed like a fine substitute.

"She's a good soldier, sir. I have no objections."

"Good. We'll be arriving at the Citadel in fourteen hours, so take the time until then to get some food and rest up. Dismissed."

_What a mission._ Jorge hadn't failed many missions before. Even if the casualties were extreme, Spartans got the job done. But then, there wasn't much else that he could have done- sure, he could have forged ahead on his own, blown through the pitiful resistance that they had run up against, maybe shown up in time to save Nihlus and kill this Saren, and get to the beacon before they armed the bombs. Except, that wasn't his place. As with Noble, he was a part of a team, and also like Noble, he was not the commander of the team. He was talented in the art of war, but he was no leader. It was his job to be heavy support, the big man with the big gun. He had learned long ago, first with his fellow Spartan II's, then with Noble, that he was a much more effective as a part of a team than on his own. It was his job to follow, and Jorge believed he was the better for following Shepard's lead.

His feet took him to the medical bay. The smooth blue doors parted for him, revealing that he was not the only one concerned for the condition of his superior officer. Both Alenko and Williams were there, staring at the unconscious Shepard. Alenko in particular looked haggard and tired, but his eyes never left her sleeping form. They barely even looked up at him as he took up a position against the wall. The door opened again, admitting a silver-haired woman.

"The Commander is stable and in good health," Chakwas began, "which is more than I can say for you, Lieutenant. You need to eat something."

"But..."

"No, no buts, Lieutenant. You used a lot of energy today, you need to eat. And drink this, for your blood sugar. I don't want to see you passed out in the bed next to the Commander because you were too obstinate to take care of yourself. Go get something to eat," she shooed. Alenko reluctantly tore his eyes off of Shepard and headed towards the door. Chakwas smiled triumphantly before turning to Williams and Jorge.

"As for you two, I'd prefer it if you'd leave. Shepard isn't going anywhere. And I will be certain to alert all of you when she wakes up, but for now you should all get something to eat. Oh, and Williams, the Captain wants to see you in his cabin."

Satisfied that his superior was at least in stable condition, Jorge exited with Williams. Though he wasn't particularly hungry, eating something wouldn't be a bad thing. Alenko was already wearily getting packets of foodstuffs out from the cabinets behind the large mess table. Jorge joined the Lieutenant while Williams crossed the mess to the Captain's cabin. Neither talked while they prepared their respective meals, though Jorge did take note that the Lieutenant had grabbed a special freeze-dried meal that was larger than his.

A _ding_ signaled that his meal was done. Grabbing the reheated, rehydrated meal, Jorge took a seat across from the Lieutenant, who was already digging in to his meal with ravenous hunger. And what a meal it looked like, it had to be twice the calorie count that Jorge's was. Footsteps caused his head to turn.

"The Captain asked me to serve on the Normandy," Williams said with excitement. "I said yes." Jorge noticed Alenko visibly flinch.

"Congratulations, welcome to the team," Jorge said with a smile before digging in to his own meal. Typical tasteless freeze-dried food, better than field rations but not by much. His eyes, however, were on the Lieutenant.

"Yea, congrats," Alenko replied in a slightly sour tone. Williams' face fell slightly. The man must have been more affected by Jenkins death than he had originally thought. That he was showing signs of taking it out on the Gunnery Chief was not good.

"You alright, Lieutenant?" Jorge asked slowly. His eyes watched Alenko's every move- he saw the stiffening, the expressionless mask come over the face.

"I'm fine," Alenko replied nonchalantly. He didn't meet Jorge's eyes, instead concentrating on picking at his food. Silence reigned as Jorge studied the man, eyes never wavering. Eventually, Alenko's gaze rose to meet his- a defiant stare that dared Jorge to do something.

"Jenkins was a good soldier. His death was not your fault," Jorge voiced quietly. The mask turned to anger in an instant.

"You didn't even know him," Alenko responded, voice cold with rage. "You didn't even stop to _mourn_ him, not even for one _instant_, you heartless bastard. Hell, you didn't even stop to look at him after he was down, you just forged ahead like a damned _machine_. So I don't want to be hearing about what I should be feeling from you, got it, _Operations Chief?_"

"I've seen many soldiers die before, Lieutenant. I know how to handle loss. And I don't mean to talk badly of Jenkins. But Williams had nothing to do with his death, leave her out of it," Jorge replied quietly.

Alenko glared at him with undisguised fury before taking his remaining meal and heading towards the sleeping pods. Jorge didn't turn to look at him as he stomped away. Taking a seat next to him, Williams let out the breath she appeared to have been holding.

"You think the LT is going to be alright?" she asked quietly. Jorge went back to his meal.

"He'll be fine, he just needs some time," he replied amiably. Hopefully.

"I hope so," she echoed. It was another few bites of his meal before she spoke again.

"What did you do before this, that you saw soldiers die?"

The question caught him off guard. For a moment, memories of the Covenent flooded his mind. Of Noble team carrying out their orders- while the brave, unaugmented, unshielded Marines who accompanied them were slaughtered to a man. He banished that line of thought.

"Special Forces work," Jorge began. "High risk targets. Alliance wanted them done quietly and with minimal resources, so they'd send me in with a few other N soldiers. It was dangerous work, we didn't always come back with everyone. But we always got the job done."

Williams remained silent as he finished his meal. He thought it best to not disturb her thoughts as he disposed of the plastic container and headed towards the freight elevator.

-{()}-

Jorge was bored. Not unheard of, but it was rare for a Spartan to be bored. He had gone over the mission a thousand times in his head already, every last detail in his enhanced mind examined to evaluate what he had done wrong and what he could do better next time. He found little to improve on, mainly to keep a closer eye on the Lieutenant as it seemed the Lieutenant was not as far above standard Marine training as Jorge had previously thought. He idly flipped through the extranet before stumbling upon a turian video playing on a page.

Flick.

Jorge gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The video was interrupted by a chiming note on his omni tool, closing the window before he could do anything else. It was the mission report to Alliance Command. Jorge headed towards the mess to read it, barely noticing the Gunnery Chief doing the same.

The garrison had suffered over 70% casualties, most had been protecting the dig site when the attack hit. Williams was so far the only survivor from the 212 th patrol that she was a part of. Civilian casualties numbered in the hundreds, saved only because the bulk of the main colony was settled well away from the dig site and spaceport. Enemies confirmed to be Geth. Unknown technology used to convert humans into cybernetic thralls. Nihlus dead, witness claims responsibility on one turian named 'Saren'. Unknown ship confirmed to have been present in atmosphere. No exit vector known. Beacon, destroyed.

"Damn," Jorge muttered to himself. Final proof of their failure, reported to Command and likely the Council from there. A simple pickup turned into a disaster.

"You said it," Williams agreed, drawing his attention. "And thanks for what you did earlier, the LT apologized a little while ago."

"Not a problem," Jorge replied. His thoughts were interrupted as both their omni-tools beeped. Checking the new message, he saw it was from Chakwas. _The Commander is awake._ Williams gave a sight of relief and made to get up, no doubt intending to go to the med bay.

"No," Jorge told Williams. "Let her get her bearings." She didn't like it, but she sat back down, this time facing the med bay doors. Anderson, however, went straight from his office to the med bay. Through the door Jorge caught a glimpse of Shepard sitting up. At least she seemed to be alright.

A few moments later the doors opened again, allowing Chakwas and Alenko to leave the room before closing again. Chakwas took up a leaning position by the doors while Alenko headed towards a station near the sleeping pods. His eyes refused to meet Jorge. Two minutes later, the door opened again, this time to reveal none other than the Commander. She looked none the worse whatever the beacon had done to her. Both Jorge and Williams rose to greet her. Jorge patiently waited for Williams to finish talking with Shepard before she came to him.

"Good to see you back on your feet, Commander," Jorge greeted. A warm smile came across her face.

"Thank you, Kadar. It's good to be back on my feet. I'm sorry, but I have to talk to Joker in the cockpit..."

"Ma'am."

Jorge watched Shepard walk confidently towards the stairs, disappearing into the stairwell. Content that the Commander was physically well, Jorge headed to the elevator so that he could prepare for arrival on the Citadel.

-{()}-

Alright, another short chapter. Well, I've found that my 3000 word resolution probably isn't going to hold, at least not for chapters in between major missions. I'm sorry, I just can't mercilessly pad out chapters, its just not my nature. On the other hand, mission chapters should be around the same length as the Eden Prime chapter, maybe longer. And I'm going to try to do the whole Citadel visit in one go, so expect a long chapter next- and that unfortunately means another long wait. I've set aside some time dedicated to writing, but with school I'm not certain how well that is going to hold. So I'm sorry to say it's probably going to be a while before I update again.

On the other hand, I've added a Q&A chapter, just after the foreward. If you have questions, post them in reviews or PM me and I'll add them to the Q&A section, so check it out.


	10. Chapter 8

Udina's office was clean and well lit, white surfaces glinting everywhere. It opened to a balcony with a great open space- that would be the Wards according to his quick study of the station layout on his omni. At the back on the right, a man was arguing with three alien holograms as Anderson, Shepard, Williams, Alenko and Jorge entered. That would be Udina, with the Council. He was deep in a heated argument. Anderson signaled 'at ease' while they waited.

From what he had seen already, the Citadel was the largest space station he had ever set foot on. Oh, he'd heard rumors about the Covenant capital of High Charity, but he'd never actually seen it firsthand to get a sense of scale. This... this was massive. Millions called this station their home. And humanity was a minority. He'd seen mostly humans so far, the aircar (one that he could barely fit in) that had picked them up on the dock had brought them directly to the Human Embassy. There were a few aliens- the uncanny valley of the Asari, the slender figure of a Salarian, and one of the massive Elcor that shared the building with the Human Embassy. Only one turian so far- but he'd kept firm control on his actions, the turian had done nothing to provoke a response and the sighting had been uneventful.

The argument finished soon enough with a definitive note from the Asari councilor. Udina dropped his head as though defeated before turning to Anderson. Shepard signaled the squad to form up at attention behind the Captain.

"Captian Anderson... and I see you came prepared for a fight," Udina said in a disparaging tone, a scowl forming on his thin face as he looked Jorge over. He was the only one with a helmet on, no one else expected trouble and so no one else was wearing a helmet.

"No, Ambassador, just the ground team from Eden Prime. In case you had any questions," Anderson replied, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence.

"I have the mission reports," he snapped. "I assume they're accurate?"

The implication that they weren't made Jorge grit his teeth.

"They are," Anderson replied in a calm tone. "Sounds like you convinced the Council to give us an audience."

"They were not happy about it," Udina admitted with a scowl, but there was some pride in his tone. "Saren's their top agent. They don't like him being accused of treason."

"Saren needs to be dealt with. If they don't, I will," Shepard vowed. Udina's brows narrowed at the Commander.

"You've already done enough to jeopardize your candidacy for the Spectres, Shepard. The mission to Eden Prime was a chance to prove you could get the job done. Instead, Nihlus ended up dead and the beacon was destroyed!" Udina accused.

'That's Saren's fault, not hers!" Anderson stepped in.

"Then we better hope that the C-Sec investigation turns up evidence to support our accusations," Udina mused darkly. "Otherwise the Council might use this as an opportunity to keep you out of the Spectres. Come with me, Captain. I want to go over a few things before the hearing starts. Shepard- you and the others can meet us at the Citadel Tower. Top level. I'll make sure you have clearance to get in."

Jorge watched Anderson leave with Udina and decided that he didn't like the man. He certainly seemed good at his job, but his demeanor was unacceptable for a representative of humanity. Beside him, Williams shook her head.

"And that's why I hate politicians," she voiced.

"Better him than us," Shepard joined. "I heard he actually enjoys the political bull the rest of us hate so much. Come on, we've got to get to the Presidium."

The trip to the Presidium elevator was new to Jorge as well. He hadn't truly appreciated before just how many non-humans there were on the station. He saw humans intermingling with turians, salarians, a few of the massive elcor, and even more often, the human-like Asari. He saw them all; and they saw him. Every man and woman they passed on the walkway, alien or not, stared at Shepard's squad. Or more specifically, at Jorge. He darkened his visor and tried to ignore them like he would a human crowd, but even so his sense of privacy was violated. Didn't they have something else to do? At least military personnel...

Flick.

A turian in his line of sight reacted, his mandibles unconsciously flaring momentarily in some unknown expression. Jorge felt the adrenaline rush through his body, preparing for battle. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth to restrain the violence in his blood. It was a good thing his equipment was stowed on his back, he was not certain that the plastic and ceramic weapons he had would have withstood the force he was channeling through his hands. For now, Jorge focused pointedly on following the commander and NOT strangling the nearest turian with his bare hands. He was relieved when they stepped into an elevator, one with only Shepard and the squad in it. He forced himself to relax as the elevator began to move.

"So... you usually get this much attention, big guy?" Williams casually asked.

"No," Jorge replied after a moment. "Haven't been around civilians much. I don't get out too often."

"I'll bet. I haven't ever seen anyone turn this many heads before."

"Wish they'd stop staring and go about their damn business..." Jorge muttered darkly. The fact that most of the crowd that had been staring had been non-human made it much worse in his mind. He was used to the kind of awestruck and hopeful stares he got at UNSC medal ceremonies, not the kind of shocked, curious, and _alien_ stares he was getting here.

Alenko gave a chuckle. "It's not often people get to see someone who makes a turian look small. Just ignore them, Op Chief, they aren't doing any harm by gawking."

The rest of the elevator ride passed in silence. The doors opened to a corridor that spilled into a grand room, the ceiling vaulted high, the lights dimmer than in the bright white Embassies. Up the first flight of stairs, at the opening to the larger area, two turians were arguing as the group approached.

"Saren's hiding something! Give me more time. Stall them," the turian on the left said. Outfitted in standard C-Sec turian armor, he had blue facepaint tracing under both eyes, across the bridge of his nose and down his mandibles. His left eye was obscured behind a haptic eyepiece, no doubt feeding him information on whatever he wanted.

"Stall the Council? Don't be ridiculous. Your investigation is over, Garrus," the other turian, his face and forehead a pattern of white facepaint. He walked purposefully away.

Garrus, noting their presence, studied the Commander for a moment. A small flick of his mandibles caused Jorge's fists to curl again, but he said nothing. Garrus walked up to Shepard.

"Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren."

"Come across anything I should know?" Shepard asked.

"Saren's a Spectre. Most of his activities are classified. Couldn't find anything solid. But I know he's up to something. Like you humans say, I feel it in my gut."

Jorge's eyes blinked at that. A turian using human idioms? It was almost funny that he was referencing humans rather than just saying it. Almost.

"I think the Council's ready for us, Commander," Alenko broke in.

"Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they'll listen to you," Vakarian said as the team started moving.

There were aliens around, and just as before, they all stared at the team, or more specifically, at him. There seemed to be a bit fewer, for which Jorge was thankful as it meant they were easier to ignore. At the bottom of the last flight of steps, they met the Captain.

"Come on, the hearing's already started," Anderson supplied. And indeed, ahead was the voice of Donnel Udina. Shepard took the lead up the stairs, along with the Captain. Jorge, Williams and Alenko stopped at the end of the outstretched podium platform while Shepard and the Captain walked up to Udina. Across a small open space was the Council, in person. One hooded salarian, one Asari with white tattoos or makeup, and one turian with a grayish plate tone and white paint adorning his face.

"The investigation by Citadel Security turned up no evidence to support your charge of treason," the turian councilor stated. Udina protested this, but was rebuffed by the Salarian. While the diplomats exercised their verbal skill, Jorge focused on the fourth member of the Citadel delegation.

To the left of the councilors was a large holographic projection of a turian, towering over everyone in the room. While it was difficult to tell great detail from the monochromatic projection, Jorge saw that the turian wore heavy body armor. Based on the turian anatomy he had studied and seen so far, it looked as though the left arm was a prosthetic- the musculature was too large for any turian to have, the two fingers too stubby and lacking the slender taper of talons. From the projection, he saw no facepaint, which seemed unusual, as well as two rearward facing narrow bones that started from the temple.

That must be Saren. He spoke for the first time since they had arrived.

"I resent these accusations. Nihlus was a fellow Spectre. And a friend."

Jorge studied the holographic face, but it revealed nothing. Only the tone of voice indicated that Saren felt sorry that Nihlus was dead.

"That just let you catch him off guard!" the Captain accused. The hologram regarded him for a moment.

"Captain Anderson," Saren drawled. "You always seem to be involved when humanity makes false charges against me."

"And this must be your protégé, Commander Shepard," he continued. "The one who let the beacon get destroyed."

Jorge's hands once again clenched, now for the accusation rather than the involuntary reaction to turians.

"The mission to Eden Prime was top secret, there is no way you could have known about the beacon unless you were there," Shepard fired back.

"With Nihlus dead, his files passed on to me. I read the Eden Prime report. I was not impressed," Saren said in a condescending tone. "But what can you expect... from a human?"

All the cards were on the table. Saren had tangled with Anderson before and won. And he had issue with the entire human race- and if they were right, enough issue to attack a human colony. In Jorge's mind, Saren was now cemented as the enemy. It might take more subtlety than Jorge was used to, Saren was a powerful figure in the galactic government. His Spartan combat training doubtlessly wouldn't be useful in the political arena. Jorge refocused on the conversation at hand.

"Shepard's admission into the Spectres is not the purpose of this meeting," the asari councilor stated.

"This meeting has no purpose," Saren replied irritably. "The humans are wasting your time, Councilor. And mine."

"We'll find evidence," Shepard vowed.

"There is still one outstanding issue: Commander Shepard's vision. It may have been triggered by the beacon," Anderson voiced. Jorge grimaced as he said that. A vision as evidence?

Saren echoed his thoughts. "Are we allowing dreams into evidence now? How can I defend myself against this kind of testimony?"

"I agree; our judgment must be made on facts and evidence, not wild imaginings and reckless speculation," the turian councilor said.

"Do you have anything else to add, Commander Shepard?" the salarian asked.

"You've made your decision. I won't waste my breath," Shepard replied. The Council achieved consensus quickly.

"The Council has found no evidence of any connection between Saren and the geth. Ambassador, your petition to have him disbarred from the Spectres is denied," the Asari councilor pronounced.

"I'm glad to see justice was served," Saren voiced. The taunt was clear to the humans.

"This meeting is adjourned."

Shepard had cold rage in her eyes when she marched up to the squad. No one said anything- the feeling of anger and defeat was in all of them.

"It was a mistake bringing you into that hearing, Captain," Udina berated. "You and Saren have too much history. It made the Council question our motives."

"I know Saren. He's working with the geth for one reason: to exterminate the human race," Anderson asserted. "Every colony we have is at risk. Every world we control is in danger. Even Earth isn't safe."

"Then we need to stop him, and the geth. No matter what the Council says," Jorge spoke up. Udina scowled at him.

"We cannot afford to ignore the Council until we have irrefutable proof that he is attacking us," Udina said quickly.

"We can't do nothing. We have to deal with Saren, now," Shepard said forcefully. The scowl on Udina's face deepened.

"As a Spectre, he's virtually untouchable. We need to find some way to expose him," he replied, lost in thought.

"What about Garrus, that C-Sec investigator?" Alenko asked. "We saw him arguing with the executor."

"That's right! He was asking for more time to finish his report. Seems like he was close to finding something on Saren," Williams added.

"He might be able to tell us more," Jorge agreed. Shepard nodded.

"Any idea where we could find him?" she asked.

"I have a contact in C-Sec who can help us track Garrus down. His name is Harkin," Udina supplied. Anderson shook his head.

"Forget it. They suspended Harkin last month, drinking on the job. I won't waste my time with that loser."

"You won't have to. I don't want the Council using your past history with Saren as an excuse to ignore anything we turn up. Shepard will handle this."

"I'll take care of it."

"Good. I have to take care of some business. Captain, meet me in my office later," Udina said before he walked away. Anderson gave a small sigh.

"Harkin's probably getting drunk at Chora's Den. It's a dingy little club in the lower section of the wards," Anderson informed them.

"I thought you said he was a drunken loser."

"Couldn't hurt to go talk with him. Just be careful. I wouldn't call him reliable."

"Yes, sir."

"Good luck, Shepard. I'll be in the Ambassador's office if you need me."

"Right," Shepard turned to the team. "Alenko, you got a path to Chora's Den?"

"Already programmed," the Lieutenant responded. Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.

"Been there before, have we?" Shepard said in a deadpan. Beside Jorge, Williams snickered. Alenko flushed red.

"No ma'am, just anticipating our course of action," he stammered out. Williams snickered even more.

"Relax, Alenko," Shepard said with a small grin. The Lieutenant looked flustered. "Fall in, we've got to get to Chora's Den."

-{()}-

Chora's Den. A "gentlemen's club" in the Wards. Whatever that was, the way it was said indicated to Jorge that it was borderline legal or acceptable.

Their journey was interrupted once, to interrogate a salarian about something or other. Jorge honestly didn't care much for the conversation. Beyond that, the walk to the club had been filled with exactly what Jorge had been both expecting and dreading- aliens. Most didn't elicit any reaction in Jorge besides a normal caution in acting around civilians- asari, salarians, elcor, even a few krogan, they were all different enough from any Covenant race that he had ever seen, and so he had no real negative reaction to them. Turians, with their numbers here, were a constant source of anxiety for him. He clenched his hands whenever he saw a mandible twitch, to relieve the anxiety. He did notice that the urge to kill them on the spot was slowly becoming weaker-maybe he was getting used to it subconsciously?

They were nearly at Chora's Den. The group walked through a doorway to an open space, a nice big hole in the middle with solid railings around it. On the other side was Chora's Den, and three turians- in full armor, helmets on. Suspicious, Jorge reached for the pistol on his hip as they saw the party.

"That's her! Kill them!"

Faster than anyone else, before the turians had even managed to get their rifles unfolded, Jorge was taking shots with his pistol over his teammates' heads, focusing on the turian in the lead. The shots pinged off his barrier, which didn't fall before Jorge's pistol overheated. By now, they had their rifles out, both Shepard's team and the turians, and were exchanging fire. Jorge drew his own rifle and brought it up to fire-just as his shields collapsed. The rest of the team had taken cover, so all three turians were focusing on him, the largest target in the room. With a swear in Hungarian, Jorge dropped behind cover as well. The balcony wall, chest high on his teammates, forced Jorge to contort uncomfortably to keep his head behind it while he waited for his shields to recharge. Normally, he wouldn't care about standing up to fire without shields for a time, but he knew that this armor was much weaker than his Mark IV and he didn't want to chance an injury. Not when there was a better alternative.

A cry of triumph from his right- Shepard. A quick peek over the wall indicated that there were only two turians now. Dropping to his hands and knees, Jorge crawled to the end of the wall. There was no turian waiting for him on the corridor.

A ping indicated his shields were back, and Jorge immediately stood up and added his fire to Shepard's just as Williams did the same. The combined fire riddled one, while the other went to cover. Shepard signaled him to move up. Keeping the gun trained on the turian's last location, he did so. He had almost reached the corner, which would completely flank the turian, when the enemy popped up. Jorge immediately opened fire as he continued to advance. His shields took a few hits before the turian's gun was hit by some sort of electronic attack and stopped firing. The turian tried desperately to get it working again, but Jorge was near point blank now. The moment the shields were gone, the turian found himself with four neat holes through his visor. Dead.

"I'll bet those were Saren's men," Shepard mused as she collapsed her weapons. Behind her, Alenko was accessing one of the dead turain's omni tools.

"They weren't very good, Commander. Not a well-planned ambush," Jorge commented.

"It was the beginning, Kadar. If this was Saren, more will come."

"It was Saren," Alenko confirmed. "They had orders to assassinate you, but it made no mention of the rest of us. They probably thought you were alone."

"Well, let's not get caught with our pants down. Be alert, people. In the meantime, we have to talk to a drunken loser inside a strip club. Hooray."

Strip club? Is that what a "gentlemen's club" was? Having never personally been to either, Jorge had no idea what to expect.

The doors opened, and inside in the muted blue light was the Den, in all its glory. 'Dingy' was right- the place had a suspicious, illegal air to it. A circular bar fit in the middle of the room, surrounding a column. On the shade above the bar, asari danced, smoothly flowing from one move to another. In red-lit, shadowy areas of the room, more asari in skimpy outfits danced around poles, for the benefit of groups or single customers- many humans among them. Jorge had heard of such places, mainly from marines, though once he had fought through a building that had had a room with a similar layout to this. From the marines, he had also picked up that this was the ideal place to get drunk and enjoy female company, or as they liked to call it, 'relaxing'. Jorge didn't particularly see the appeal.

No, the most interesting and dangerous thing that Jorge saw at the moment was the pair of arguing krogan. From what he'd read, they were tough, strong, and had extraordinarily short fuses. If that argument came to blows, it would probably be a fight to the death, and that would spill over to the rest of the Den easily enough. He went on high alert when Shepard headed towards them. As they approached, the heavily scarred, older krogan decided the argument was no longer worth his time and left, pushing past the group as he headed towards the exit. He sized up Jorge with a single red eye, but did nothing.

Ahead of him, Shepard was conversing with a balding human. His lack of respect for Shepard grated on Jorge, but he said nothing for now. Shepard ignored the snide comments and come-ons the man, Harkin, made, and they soon had the information they needed: Garrus was heading for a med-clinic run by one Doctor Michel. Any more than that, Shepard ignored as they left the club.

-{()}-

The medical clinic Harkin referred to was in the upper markets, not far from Chora's Den. It did involve a trip through the alien-dominated markets, something which set Jorge on edge as he darkened his visor and tried to ignore all the stares he was getting. At least here, most went back to the business at hand after a few seconds. They were stopped only for a moment by an investigative journalist who wanted some information, if Shepard had the time. She was surprisingly pleasant about the matter; Jorge doubted that he would ever give a journalist anything more than a short interview and the time of day.

The doors opened to a scene that none of the squad was expecting.

"I didn't tell anyone, I swear!" a woman fearfully exclaimed. Dr. Chloe Michel. She was flanked by four men, all armed. Jorge noticed Garrus, on their side of a separating counter, sneaking to the corner.

"That was smart, Doc. Now if Garrus comes around you stay smart and... WHO ARE YOU!" the thug accused. The leader grabbed the Doctor, spinning her around as he drew his weapon, using her as a human shield against the four-heavily armed humans he saw. The underlings drew their weapons and made tentative moves for cover. In front of him, Shepard and Alenko drew pistols while Ashley spared the extra time for a shotgun.

"Let her go," Shepard commanded, aiming the pistol at the pair.

Jorge's mind worked furiously as the assault rifle unfolded into his hands. The leader was brandishing the gun menacingly at the four of them, but Jorge wasn't worried- all four had kinetic barriers that could easily withstand enough shots to get to cover. What was more worrying was Doctor Michel- they needed her alive, and even though the thug leader hadn't activated any shields, it would need to be an excellent shot in order to kill the man without harming the Doctor. And even if he could be killed, the Doctor had no eezo source on her- she would be caught in the middle of a firefight between Alliance soldiers and hired guns without any protection.

All of this blazed through his mind in a heartbeat. First, he had to incapacitate the leader and free Dr. Michel. His finger tightened on the trigger- he was the most accurate, even with the unfamiliar gun, and he stood the best shot at killing the man without harming the Doctor. But movement in the corner of his eye stopped him- Garrus was swinging out of cover, pistol raised. Was he... he was going for the shot. Ballsy. If he could pull it off... he had a better angle than Jorge. The finger stopped tightening. The cop would take the first shot, and if he missed, then Jorge would take his turn.

The shot rang out. Jorge saw blood splatter from the man's temple- a perfect headshot. The turian had excellent aim and confidence in it. The thug slumped to the ground, partially dragging his human shield with him as the Doctor gave a small shout of surprise and fear. But she was quick to get out of the line of fire and into an alcove with the turian as the situation erupted into violence. As one, all four marines and the cop opened fire on the remaining mercenaries. Two managed to get to cover through the bullets being poured at them. Unfortunately, one had chosen cover in full view of Ashley Williams and her shotgun. He didn't last long. The other had found cover much further back in the room, where no one could immediately see him. He stood there, cowering, as Jorge fired off short bursts to keep him in cover while Shepard advanced, shotgun in hand. Sensing his impending doom, or panicking, the man broke out of cover and rushed Shepard. Her shotgun roared and ended his life.

"Perfect timing, Shepard. Gave me a clear shot at that bastard," Garrus complimented in a lively voice. Like he was happy. Anxious, Jorge quickly stowed his weapon on his back.

"You took him down clean, good shot," Shepard agreed as she joined Garrus and Dr. Michel.

"Sometimes you get lucky," Garrus replied. "Dr. Michel, are you hurt?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks to you, all of you," she said, fidgeting slightly.

"Who were they? Why were they threatening you?" Shepard asked kindly.

"They work for Fist. They wanted to shut me up, keep me from telling Garrus about the quarian." Quarian, human-like aliens. Slender, good with tech, very rarely left the Migrant Fleet. Had to spend all their time in environmental suits due to an atrophied immune system. Not part of the Citadel species, kicked out for creating the Geth. Why was one here?

"What quarian?"

"A few days ago, a quarian came by my office," began, slightly nervous. "She'd been shot, but she wouldn't tell me who did it. I could tell she was scared, probably on the run. She asked me about the Shadow Broker. She wanted to trade information in exchange for a safe place to hide."

"And?" Shepard prodded.

"I put her in contact with Fist. He's an agent for the Shadow Broker."

"Not anymore. Now he works for Saren. And the Shadow Broker isn't too happy about it," Garrus cut in.

"Fist betrayed the Shadow Broker?" the Doctor asked, shocked. "That's stupid, even for him. Saren must have made him quite the offer."

"That quarian must have something Saren wants. Something worth crossing the Shadow Broker to get," Garrus concluded.

"Evidence," Shepard agreed. "Did the quarian mention anything about Saren? Or the geth?"

The Doctor's face brightened at that mention. "She did! The information she was going to trade. It had something to do with the geth."

"She must be able to link Saren to the geth. There's no way the Council can ignore this!" Garrus said forcefully. Shepard nodded.

"Time we paid Fist a visit." Before they could move, Garrus spoke again.

"This is your show, Shepard. But I want to bring Saren down as much as you do. I'm coming with you!"

"Welcome aboard, Garrus," she replied. Jorge looked down at her.

"You sure about this, Commander?" he asked. Having Garrus along could cause problems, and not just with him. Though he had to admit that this was the first full conversation in proximity to a turian where he hadn't had the urge to kill somebody. Garrus hadn't flared his mandibles once, and the effect was that Jorge was anxious over nothing. So far.

"Yes," Shepard said, holding up a hand. "I understand you have misgivings, Operations Chief, but the decision is mine."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You know, we aren't the only ones going after Fist. The Shadow Broker hired a krogan bounty hunter named Wrex to take him out," Garrus offered.

"Yea, we saw him in the bar," Williams commented. So... Wrex must have been the older krogan.

"We can handle this without a krogan, I think," Shepard replied. "Come on, Fist is waiting."

"I'll send someone out to check on you," Garrus told the Doctor as the rest of the team headed for the door. He worked at his omni tool quickly before jogging to catch up, feet clacking against the floor. He fell into step beside Jorge, behind Shepard and the other marines.

"I didn't know humans could get more than two meters," Garrus commented as they walked.

"Juggernaut here's about as big as they come," Ashely commented with a grin. Jorge merely grunted.

"Juggernaut? That can't be his name."

"Operations Chief Kadar," was all Jorge said by way of reply.

"I look forward to working with you," Garrus said. Jorge gave a small nod to be polite.

It did not take long to retrace their steps to the club, but the area was strangely quiet and devoid of life. The neon sign out front was off. The door did not respond to their presence.

"Commander, I'm getting lots of eezo readings in the club," Alenko said as he fiddled with his omni tool.

"Another ambush?" Williams mused.

"Probably," Jorge agreed as he looked at his own omni. From the layout he had seen earlier, they were all in probably in cover, well away from the doorway, waiting for them to burst in.

"I can unlock the door with C-Sec overrides," Garrus offered. Shepard nodded.

"On my signal. Alenko and Williams with me through the door, if I remember right there's some cover as soon as we open it. Vakarian and Kadar will give fire support from the doorway. Three... two... one... mark!"

Hell broke loose. Those inside the bar, almost exclusively human, fought back fiercely, but they could only do so much- they were wearing civilian clothes, with relatively weak kinetic barrier generators built in somewhere. A short burst and they went down. There were enough of them to be a threat, but only for a short time. It reminded Jorge of the days when he fought Insurgents more often than Covenant. The krogan bouncer was the largest threat, though the alien refused to become engaged as his human comrades dropped like flies. Everyone advanced cautiously on the lone target.

With a roar, the krogan charged out of cover towards Shepard. All five opened fire. Time slowed for Jorge as he examined the situation. Even without shields, more than seven hundred pounds of krogan did not stop his charge for Shepard. She was backpedaling, but at the rate the krogan was charging she wouldn't make it before he reached her. The decision was made. Sprinting as only a Spartan could, Jorge intercepted the roaring krogan before he reached Shepard. Jorge was 600 lbs of enhanced muscle, not as big as a krogan but more than enough to knock him off path. The shoulder tackle hit the krogan in the side and both went flying to the floor, their combined weight slamming into a table and bending it. Angered even further, the krogan blindly elbowed Jorge off of him- rolling with the blow, Jorge quickly got to a knee and began firing into the massive alien in front of him. Even with his teammates pouring fire into the bouncer, the krogan did not stop moving until after Jorge's rifle overheated.

_One tough SOB_, he thought to himself. Shepard walked over to the body, shotgun drawn. She fired once into the eye at point blank range, just to make sure the bouncer was dead. She looked at him as she switched weapons again.

"Thanks for the save."

"Of course, ma'am."

The doors to the back room slid open to admit two humans. Jorge leveled his rifle, but didn't open fire- these men had no shields of any sort, they were a minimal threat.

"Don't come any closer or we'll shoot!" one warned, leveling his pistol.

"Dock workers," Garrus supplied. "All the real guards are probably dead."

"Now might be a good time to find a new line of work," Shepard told the men.

"Yea, yea, maybe you're right," the man quickly agreed.

"Never liked working here anyway," the other muttered as they left.

"Fist's office is through the next door," Garrus warned.

"Kadar, you're through first," Shepard ordered.

"Yes ma'am."

The doors to the office opened and Jorge walked calmly through after checking his corners. The office appeared to be to the left, behind a bulkhead. On the other side of the hallway was a locked door with a similar bulkhead.

"Got to do everything myself," he heard someone mutter. That must be Fist. Swinging around the bulkhead, weapons raised, Jorge took two steps into the room before all hell broke loose.

Fist immediately fired at him, and Jorge back, but before either could close or collapse the other's shields, a pair of turrets emerged from either side of the work desk. Jorge's eyes went wide as the heavy turrets both tracked to him and opened fire. His shields collapsed as he dove for cover behind the bulkhead opposite where he had come in. He felt something wet on his side- a bullet had grazed the skin between the ceramic plates, cutting through the underlayer and giving him a ragged cut. The damage was superficial, but Jorge was annoyed that it had happened in the first place. What was the point of this armor if it didn't protect you?

"Vakarian, Alenko! Disable those turrets!"

Jorge watched as both leveled their omni tools. A small grenade was launched from the tiny rail on the upper arm. Both turrets fell silent. As soon as they had, Shepard and Williams jumped out of cover and began firing at Fist cowering behind the desk. Jorge swung out and followed them. Fist collapsed behind the desk. Ceasing fire, the five slowly edged around to find Fist on the floor.

"Wait! Don't kill me! I surrender!" Fist exclaimed. His arm was raised as if to ward off a blow.

"Tell me where the quarian is," Shepard commanded, leveling her pistol at the man. He flinched and turned away.

"She's not here. I don't know where she is, that's the truth!"

"He's lying," Williams spoke casually, hands on her hips. Shepard's eyes narrowed.

"Kadar, put a round in his leg, see if he talks." Jorge raised his gun, but before he pulled the trigger Fist began talking.

"Wait! Wait! I don't know where the quarian is, but I know where you can find her. The quarian isn't here, said she'd only deal with the Shadow Broker himself."

"Impossible," Garrus voiced. "The Shadow Broker only works through his agents."

After a moment of hesitation, Shepard signaled Jorge to lower his weapon. Fist shakily got to his feet.

"Nobody meets the Shadow Broker. Ever. Even I don't know his true identity. But she doesn't know that. I told her I'd set a meeting up. But when she shows up, it'll be Saren's men waiting for her."

"Give me the location," Shepard said in a hard voice. Fist hesitated. "NOW!"

"Here on the Wards! The back alley by the market! She's supposed to meet them right now- you can make it if you hurry."

"Get out of here." He wasted no time in leaving the room. Looking over his desk, Shepard grabbed one the optical storage disk out of the computer.

"Let's move people, we've got to save that quarian. Vakarian, you know the route?"

"On your tool, Shepard."

"Good. Double time."

They didn't make it far. More plainclothes thugs and mercenaries had arrived at the club, either Saren's or Fist's. Some didn't even have shields. They quickly folded under the onslaught of four marines and a cop, but precious time was wasted. As a unit, the five of them ran out of club. In the front, Shepard had her omni open and was furiously glancing at it for directions. Beside her, Vakarian was confidently heading towards wherever they were going. A hard left outside the small courtyard near the club led to an alley. Two flights of stairs found them overlooking a small open space- one with a quarian, a turian, and two salarians. As they came into view, the salarians began to advance on the quarian- only to be blown off their feet by the grenade she threw at them.

"Protect the quarian!" Shepard ordered as she opened fire on the turian, distracting him from his fleeing prey. The rest of the squad opened fire as well, but Jorge kept running as he fired. He took the steps five at a time as he peppered one salarian with fire. He arrived at cover next to the startled quarian.

"You alright miss?" he asked. The cover was a small crate, far too small for Jorge to take full cover. He did kneel and use it as a stabilizer and partial shield, but for the most part the turian and remaining salarian were far more occupied with Shepard's advancing group.

"Yes but..."

"No time now," Jorge said. "Keep your head down, we're here to help."

The fight was short. Five on three ensured that the assassins were well outmatched and outgunned. When they were all down, the quarian stood up and approached Shepard, with Jorge close behind her, on alert for more assassins. The two began to talk as Jorge watched for any other signs of activity. She had the data, information that proved Saren was a traitor. Time to inform the Council.

-{()}-

"You're not making my life easy, Shepard," Udina admonished them, his back turned to the view of the Wards from his office. Anderson beside him was studying the quarian intently. "Firefights in the Wards, an all out assault on Chora's Den. Do you know how many... who's this?" Udina, now facing the gathering, had finally seen the party.

"A quarian? What are you up to Shepard?" Udina asked suspiciously.

"Making your day, Ambassador. She has information linking Saren to the Geth," Shepard replied triumphantly.

"Really? Perhaps you had best start at the beginning, miss...?"

"My name is Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

Jorge listened intently as he applied a small amount of medi-gel to the cut on his side. While it was not as effective at sealing up large wounds as biofoam, it was a miracle medical implement in its own right. It stopped bloodflow and accelerated healing processes in the area applied, as well as damping pain and preventing bacterial infection. It wouldn't save someone who'd been impaled or suffered serious internal damage like biofoam, but it was amazing in its ability to treat burns, cuts, and exposed wounds.

The quarian, Tali, had managed to find a small geth patrol and ambushed it. From the data core on the geth, she had recovered an audio file. A recording, of Saren speaking of a victory at Eden Prime... a 'Conduit'... and something about 'Reapers'. The data she had salvaged had shed some light on the 'Reapers'- the geth believed that they were a hyper-advanced machine race that existed fifty thousand years ago, and that had wiped out the Protheans. Shepard had something to say on that.

"The vision on Eden Prime," she said in an hushed tone. "I understand it now. It was the Protheans being wiped out by the Reapers."

Jorge looked long and hard at the Commander, evaluating what he saw and what he had seen. This talk of 'visions' made him think that Shepard was mentally unstable. But reviewing her combat and leadership over the past few hours, he had to admit that she was in top combat condition. He would watch her closely- if she showed signs of mental instability, he would have to report her.

"We need to present this to the Council right away," Udina concluded.

"What about her? The quarian?" Williams asked.

"My name is Tali! You saw me in the alley, Commander. You know what I can do. Let me come with you!"

Shepard hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. "Welcome to the team."

"Commander?" was all Jorge said. Another alien- and this species wasn't even a part of the Council.

"I know you have concerns, Operations Chief. But the decision is still mine."

"Yes ma'am."

"Anderson and I will go ahead of you and get things ready for the Council. Take a few minutes to collect yourself, then meet us in the Tower," Udina said tersely.

-{()}-

_Eden Prime was a major victory. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit_.

_And one step closer to the return of the Reapers._

"You wanted proof... there it is," Udina pronounced with a dramatic hand sweep. Silence followed the revelation as the Councilors processed the implications of the recorded statements. Jorge watched the Council closely, judging their reactions to the new piece of information. The turian councilor looked put off. The salarian had bowed his head, the concealing hood preventing Jorge from reading any facial expressions. But the asari looked shocked, even though she did a good job of hiding it. The turian was the first to speak.

"This evidence is irrefutable, Ambassador," he said. He looked and sounded guilty- as if this mess was all his fault. "Saren will be stripped of his Spectre status and all efforts will be made to bring him in to answer for his crimes."

"I recognize the other voice, the one speaking with Saren," the asari councilor added. "Matriarch Benezia."

"She must be working with the geth too," Shepard commented. The asari councilor looked disconcerted, but did a good job of hiding it.

"Matriarch Benezia is a powerful biotic, and she had many followers. She will make a formidable ally for Saren."

Jorge brought up his omni-tool for a quick extranet search on that. His understanding of a Matriarch was lacking, and if she was an enemy then he would do well to become acquainted with an understanding of Matriarchs. The first extranet hit proved most informative. The third stage of the asari lifecycle, Matriarchs were usually over 700 years old, and had both a lifetime of experience to draw upon and patience few could match. And this one was a powerful biotic to boot. Trouble. He rejoined the conversation.

"Saren is a rogue agent on the run for his life. He no longer has the rights or resources of a Spectre. The Council has stripped him of his position," the turian councilor was saying.

"That is not good enough! You know he's hiding somewhere in the Traverse. Send your fleet in!" Udina postured.

"A fleet cannot track down one man," the salarian Councilor replied.

"A Citadel fleet could secure the entire region. Keep the geth from attacking any more of our colonies."

"Or it could trigger a war with the Terminus Systems!" the turian councilor replied forcefully. "We won't be dragged into a galactic war over a few human colonies!"

"I can take Saren down," Shepard said, stepping forward. The Councilors stared at her for a moment.

"The commander's right," the asari councilor said, turning to the turian councilor. "There is a way to stop Saren without the need for fleets or armies."

"No! It's too soon. Humanity is not ready for the responsibilities that come with joining the Spectres."

Spectres. Of course. And Nihlus had already been screening Shepard for induction...

"You don't have to send a fleet into the Traverse. The Ambassador gets a human Spectre. Win-win," Shepard spoke. The turian's mandibles drew downwards, showing his sharp teeth and causing Jorge to clench his fists once again. He looked over at the salarian and asari. After a long moment, his mandibles reset and he gave a small nod. As one, the Councilors placed their hands on the terminals in front of them.

"Commander Shepard- step forward," the asari spoke. A quick glance at Anderson, and she stepped to the head of the platform. Movement caught Jorge's eyes, and he turned to see the commotion- on the second story, overlooking the Council's meeting place, people of all species were gathering.

"It is the decision of this Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel."

"Spectres are not trained, but chosen," the salarian continued off his colleague. "Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file."

"Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council, instruments of our will."

"Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of the galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold," the turian stated.

"You are the first human Spectre. This is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species," the asari finished.

"I am honored, Councilor," Shepard said with a small bow.

"We are sending you into the Traverse after Saren," the salarian Councilor said. "He's a fugitive from justice, so you are authorized to use any means necessary to apprehend or eliminate him."

"I'll find him."

"This meeting of the council is adjourned," the asari finished.

The chamber erupted into the constant buzz that was conversation. Before him, Anderson turned and shook Shepard's hand as he congratulated her.

"We've got a lot of work to do, Shepard. You're going to need a ship, a crew, supplies..." Udina began. Anderson nodded happily.

"You'll get access to special equipment and training now. You should go down to the C-Sec Academy and speak with the Spectre requisitions officer."

"I'll do that."

"Anderson, come with me. I'll need your help to set all this up."

The two trudged away before Shepard turned around. A grin was plastered on her face.

"Congratulations, Commander," Jorge said. She gave him a small nod before she was beset by the other squadmate's hearty congratulations as well.

"All right, all right!" Shepard exclaimed, holding up her hands. "Thank you, everybody, thank you, but we need to get moving."

"Shepard, could I talk to you?" Garrus asked as the group fell into step.

"What about?"

"I'd like to help take down Saren."

"Say no more, Garrus. I'd guess that as a Spectre I can essentially 'requisition' you if I need to, correct?"

"Yes, Commander. I'll tell them right away," he said as he opened his omni-tool. She turned to Tali next.

"And before you even ask, yes, I want you to come with me too."

"I... thank you, Shepard."

The group received a lot of stares, but this time they weren't directed at Jorge, to his great relief. No, they only gave him a cursory glance, before they focused on Shepard. News must have spread quickly. Detouring to give the journalist the OSD looted from Fist's office meant that they went to C-Sec via the Wards, where they received even more stares- and Shepard promised the journalist exclusive interviews. She was far more social and public than he could ever imagine a soldier being. Quickly enough they arrived at C-Sec, where Shepard made a beeline for the Requisitions Officer.

"Hold up..." the turian requisition officer stated from behind his desk. A few taps at his haptic interface later, he looked back up. "Commander Shepard, newly inducted Spectre, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said as he splayed out his two-fingered hand on the interface. "I'll open the rare stocks for you. Enjoy."

Their omni tools lit up in unison with C-Sec's weapons and supplies. He brushed past the weapons section- his machine gun was well above most of the statistics he was seeing in here- but looked over the armor inventory more carefully. According to his omni, he had an Onyx I Heavy Armor suit on right now, and there were quite a few armors that had higher shield strengths, protection ratings, and plate coverage. Unfortunately for him, they all had size requirements as well- the armors were made for humans in a range of 5'4'' to 6'6'', which meant that he might as well not even bother. Continuing to scan the manifest, the weapon modifications caught his eye. Incendiary ammunition, cryogenic rounds, armor-piercing- that could come in quite handy against the mechanical geth. Looking up, he saw Shepard with a mighty frown upon her face. Curious, he sneaked a peak at her omni- she was looking at Master Spectre gear- and it cost well over two hundred thousand credits _for an assault rifle! _It took a moment to recover, then Jorge cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Do I have your permission to buy this weapon mod?" Jorge asked. Shepard gave a quick glance before nodding.

"I'll add it to the list. Anything else catch your eye?"

"That assault rifle you were looking at." Shepard let out a bark of laughter.

"Yea, me too. There's no way the Alliance would authorize that though, and I don't have anywhere close to... what, two hundred and fifty thousand credits?"

"You're a Spectre now..."

"And a Spectre is expected to pay for their own gear. I'm lucky I've still got my Alliance requisition money!"

He'd been lucky as a Spartan. As the best soldiers of a country under siege, Jorge and the other Spartan II's and III's got all the best toys free of charge. Here... here, the best stuff was too expensive for common soldiers, or even special forces soldiers, to afford.

They left with their credit chits drained and a few new toys. Jorge was quite happy to get AP ammo, it would greatly increase his effectiveness against geth, the main enemy as far as he was concerned. Next stop: the Normandy, where Shepard was going to meet Anderson and Udina to finish the setup for her new ship. There was only one thing blocking their path.

That thing happened to be a krogan, the same one they had encountered arguing with the bouncer at the club. Suited in a deep red armor that looked like it had seen a lot of action, the krogan blocked their way quite thoroughly. Jorge's hand wandered towards the small of his back, where the shotgun was stored. He saw little chance that this would end well.

"You. Human. You the one they call Shepard?" the krogan asked.

"That's me. _Commander_ Shepard."

"The name's Wrex," he said, giving Shepard an approving nod. "The Shadow Broker paid me a lot of money to get rid of Fist. Only you got there first."

"Congratulations, you just got a lot of money for free."

Wrex shoved her. Jorge immediately brought his shotgun to bear, before it had even unfolded. Vakarian did the same with his rifle, Tali and Williams with their shotguns, and Alenko glowed blue with a telltale biotic aura. But Wrex ignored them all.

"When I get paid to do a job, I finish it. Alone," he told her. Shepard appeared neither disconcerted nor scared, so for the moment Jorge held his fire. Around them, the bay seemed to have gotten a lot quieter.

"But I didn't finish this job, Shepard. You did. So the payment is yours."

_What?_

"You're going to pay me for getting rid of Fist?" Shepard asked, almost incredulous.

"I already transferred the money into your account. But I like the way you handled Fist, and I hear you're going after Saren. I was thinking I wanted to come along."

_What the hell..?_

"You're a bounty hunter," Shepard said after a long moment. "What do you get out of going after Saren?"

"I'm not in this for the money," he admitted. "I just want to be where the action is. There's a storm coming, and you and Saren are going to be right in the middle of it. I want a piece of it."

"What skills would you bring to my squad?" Shepard asked carefully. Wrex chuckled.

"I'm krogan. I bet I'm tougher and stronger than anyone here, even the big human behind you. And I'm a biotic. Saren has powerful allies, Shepard. I want to take them down, and I know that you could use my help."

With a gesture, Shepard had them all put their weapons away. They all waited for her pronouncement.

"Alright Wrex, on one condition. You join me, you have to follow my orders to the letter. Understand?"

"Perfectly."

"Good. Come with us," Shepard said as she stepped into the elevator. Seven people in the elevator, one of them krogan and one of them Jorge, made space scarce, but they survived to get to the top. On the way the elevator ran a newsreel about colonial investments after the Eden Prime attack, but the ride still took far longer than Jorge wanted it to. When the doors opened, they stepped out to find Udina and Anderson conversing in front of the entrance to the _Normandy_.

"I've got big news for you, Shepard," Udina began. "Captain Anderson is stepping down as commanding officer of the Normandy. The ship is yours now."

"She's quick and quiet, and you know the crew. Perfect ship for a Spectre. Treat her well, Commander," Anderson told her.

Jorge felt sympathy for the man. One mission and he'd gotten kicked off his ship so his XO could take it to hunt down the one turian Anderson hated most. 'Short end of the stick' barely covered it. Shepard apparently felt the same way.

"This isn't right. The Normandy belongs to you, Captain!"

"You needed your own ship," Anderson smiled sadly. "A Spectre can't answer to anyone but the Council. And it's time for me to step down."

Shepard gave a sigh of resignation. "It shouldn't end this way for you, Captain." He gave her another sad smile back.

"Doesn't matter now, Shepard. Make me proud."

"Yes sir. What kind of leads do we have on Saren?"

"Saren's gone. Don't even try to find him. But we know what he's after: the Conduit. He's got his geth scouring the Traverse looking for clues."

"We had reports of geth from Feros before our colony there went silent," Udina informed. "Beyond that, we have one more lead. Matriarch Benezia- the other voice in the recording? She has a daughter, a scientist who specializes in the Protheans. We don't know if she's involved, but it might be a good idea to try to find her. Her name is Liara, Dr. Liara T'Soni."

"Thanks for the leads," Shepard replied, deep in thought.

"Keep in mind, Shepard, your actions reflect on humanity as a whole. You make a mess and I get stuck cleaning it up."

"I'll do whatever it takes to stop Saren," Shepard vowed.

"Not exactly the answer I was looking for. Remember, you were a human long before you were a Spectre. But for now, I have a meeting I need to get to. Good luck, Shepard."

"Good luck out there, Spectre," Anderson said with a nod before he too left. Shepard's shoulders sagged a little.

"Alright everybody, onto the Normandy."

-{()}-

Wow that was a long chapter. I mean, I appreciate reading on 9,000 word chapter on , but I never realized how much effort it was before I wrote this chapter. So I sure hope you guys like it, because there is no way I'm going to completely rewrite this chapter. Hope you guys like it, feel free to tell me what I could do better.

I tried to stick pretty close to the Mass Effect story, but there are some difference. Biggest is that Anderson and Udina don't inform Shepard about Noveria. Yes, that is intentional, don't worry.

If this is the last chapter, remember that if you have any questions, I've answered some of the most common ones in the Q&A chapter. Otherwise, PM or Review me and I'll try to answer it!

EDIT:

user DDX Delta makes a good case for Jorge's weight, so I'm officially changing it so Jorge weighs around 600 lbs now. That has been edited in this chapter.


	11. Chapter 9

They were headed to the Artimus Tou cluster first, to search for the asari. There were four systems in the cluster, and they didn't know exactly which she was in, so they were searching them all in a pattern. The first planet was a few hours out, but in the meantime, Jorge was dealing with an annoyance. A very big annoyance named Wrex.

The krogan initiated conversation by coming within a few feet of Jorge's bed and simply standing there, studying him. After a minute of this, Jorge got tired of waiting for him to speak up.

"Can I help you?" he said. Wrex let out a deep chuckle at that.

"You could fight me, human."

Jorge set his pad down and stood to his full height. Krogan, despite being wide bodied and tall, had their head set at about eye level with humans and turians. They were tall in the sense that their humps extended up to a foot or two above their bony crests. Wrex's hump came up to his neck, which meant that, as usual, Jorge looked down upon the krogan. A combat analysis ran through his mind, one that he had already gone over and re-evaluated a number of times since he had first seen the krogan in the nightclub. Wrex massed more than him by more than a hundred or so pounds, and was doubtlessly proportionally strong. Based on the amount of fire it had taken to take down the bouncer at the club, Wrex would be even tougher than he seemed. The only certain way to kill the krogan would be through the eye to the brain, beyond that Jorge was uncertain that anything else would cause him to so much as pause. A fight between them would be long, brutal, and quite damaging to everything around them, but Jorge was confident he would come out on top. Not that it mattered.

"No," he said, sitting back down.

"Why not?"

"Because Shepard accepted you on her team. That means we're allies."

"So?"

"Allies don't attack each other. And I don't intend to spar with you."

"But what if we did attack each other?" Jorge remained silent.

"So you're a coward." Jorge slowly got back to his feet.

"I am no coward," he replied coldly as he walked up to the krogan. Point blank, the krogan had to twist his head to look up at Jorge, who stood with his arms folded.

"If you don't fight when battle calls, you are a coward," Wrex growled out.

"You want a fight, you start it," Jorge growled back. "Then we get to watch Shepard space you for disobeying orders."

For a second, it looked as though he was going to hit Jorge. Then the krogan relaxed, and with a barking laugh backed up.

"For Shepard, then. If you ever feel like testing yourself... I'll be right here."

Jorge watched as the krogan stalked back over to his corner of the hanger bay, just to the side of the equipment lockers. That krogan was trouble. Why Shepard had allowed him to set foot on the ship was beyond him, along with the civilian quarian Tali, who had free access to the engine room, and Garrus, who had free run of the ship, any of whom could steal whatever secrets they wanted. The security of this mission was in ruins. But that was Shepard's problem, all he could do was make sure they didn't stray into secrets that even Shepard had yet to learn of- him.

-{()}-

They were over the planet Edolus, in the Sparta system. Their arrival in orbit had been hastened by a distress beacon that was broadcasting on all frequencies. Now that they were in orbit, Shepard was going to take the Mako on a search-and-rescue run. She had chosen the turian, Vakarian, Alenko, and Williams to go down to the surface.

Jorge took his time getting into his heavy armor this time, the half-hour warning the pilot, Joker, had piped through the intercom system ensured that he had a heads-up for arrival time. He was waiting in full armor, helmet under the crook of his arm, when Shepard exited the elevator with Alenko, Vakarian, and Williams in full armor behind her. Vakarian gave him a startled stare before snapping out of it. Shepard merely had a frown on her face as the rest of the squad climbed into the Mako.

"Why are you armored? This is a simple search and rescue, I'm not planning on taking you down there this time."

"I know, Commander. I'll be ready if you do decide you need me, and I'll be listening in the cockpit to the mission," Jorge replied. Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.

"If that's what you want, Op Chief. Clear the bay, we're dropping in five."

"Yes, ma'am," Jorge said, snapping off a quick salute. As Shepard boarded the M35 IFV, Jorge walked back around the front of the vehicle to make certain his bunk was in order. Since this was effectively his sleeping area, and Wrex's, both had to have their things stored in a locker that was bolted to the floor, to prevent it from being blown away or contaminated when the Mako was dropped in the possibly hostile atmosphere of planets. The Mako thrummed to life behind him as he finished stowing the bed covers- the locker had much more room now that he was wearing his MJOLNIR rather than storing it. With his task done, Jorge went to the elevator, helmet slung under one arm and machine gun hanging from the other hand, and headed up towards the cockpit, where he could observe and offer advice, and if necessary, exit out the airlock.

The only figure in the cockpit was the pilot, Flight Lieutenant Jeffery Moreau, known affectionately to the crew as "Joker". Something he practically insisted on. Jorge had met the pilot, having introduced himself after the mission to Eden Prime. The gallows humor and sarcasm that practically oozed from the man was unusual for Jorge, but he had the skills to back up.

"Dropping in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... drop. Mako is away," Joker narrated as the ship went through the maneuver. Setting his gun down on the deck near the airlock, Jorge came up closer behind the pilot.

"Hey gigantor. What brings you up here?" Joker asked without even turning around.

"Moral support," Jorge replied with a slight grin. "Mind if I sit out the mission up here? I know you have a link to the ground team."

"Sure, just don't look over my shoulder. Hate it when people do that."

"Thanks."

+_Ground team to Normandy. We are heading to the distress beacon, let us know if anything changes.+_

"Roger, Commander. Normandy out," Joker replied. Turning, he eyed Jorge. His eyes got wide.

"Jesus H. Christ! I swear you're bigger than the Normandy! How in the hell do you even fit up here with that house on you?" Joker wanted to know. Jorge flashed a grin.

"Very carefully."

"Right..."

Jorge gave a chuckle as he turned around. The pilot was a good man behind the bitter sarcasm and humor. Jorge settled himself against the arch opposite the airlock, leaning against the bulkhead, hunched over slightly against the curve of the bulkhead. The small amount of chatter from the team as they began to explore the area of the beacon was completely normal. An Alliance team had gotten there first, in a Grizzly Main Battle Tank, but the team was dead. Vakarian even began offering some insights on the deaths of the Alliance team- a damn shame, but there was nothing they could do about it now.

+_Thresher maw!+_ Williams cried out. Jorge instantly became far more concerned with the situation on the ground. He'd read the reports on Akuze, and on thresher maws in general. In front of him, he saw Joker freeze.

+_It's a damned nest! Get to the Mako! NOW!+_ Shepard ordered. Her voice was laced with a tinge of fear. Jorge came up behind Joker, who had brought up a map of the area, a real-time view courtesy of the Normandy's sophisticated sensor and camera surveillance suite. He studied the overhead view intently.

+_Fore right shock absorber is damaged, Commander.+_ Alenko.

+_Garrus, shoot the bastard before he goes under again!_+

+_Yes Commander... one hit, doesn't look like it did anything._+

_+Where is it...+_

The display showed the Mako driving erratically around the area of the beacon at top speed. A moment later, the ground behind them erupted into dust and chunks of earth as a massive segmented worm-like creature reared into the air. The gun on the Mako flashed- another hit by Vakarian, but it didn't slow down. A moment later, the Mako veered hard left to avoid getting hit by a blob of green that the thresher had spit at them.

"We've go to help them," Jorge muttered.

"What are we going to do? Curse at it? We can't do anything! All we can do is sit up here and watch the fireworks," Joker proclaimed bitterly over the shouts and reports from the ground team.

"What about the main gun?" Jorge asked. If they could get that thresher in the sights of the main guns...

"We fire the guns that close to the Mako and they'll be collateral damage!" Joker shot down.

Vakarian fired the cannon at the maw again, with results no different than the first few times that they had hit it. That gun was just not powerful enough to take down the thresher without serious effort. His eyes flicking across the screen, Jorge wracked his brain, trying to come up with something that could take the monster down. His eyes fell upon the damaged Alliance tank.

Early in his UNSC career, Jorge had been fighting insurgents in a long and bloody battle on the other side of the galaxy from the Covenant. Heavily outnumbered and pinned down, Jorge had manned the turret of a burning, disabled warthog. The heavy-caliber fire had managed to suppress and distract a few key insurgents long enough for his fellow Spartans to beak cover and begin flanking. If they could pull a similar maneuver here with the Grizzly...

He hit a few wrong buttons on his omni, and swore to himself as he struggled to pull up the condition of the Grizzly on his wrist from the Normandy's monitoring systems. The Grizzly had sustained heavy damage to the engine compartment, as well as both front wheels and the right side armor. It would never move again. But the energy cells located in the prow of the vehicle were undamaged, and the turret diagnostics claimed no damage either. Perfect.

"How close can you get me to the ground over the beacon?" Jorge asked.

"What? You mean, with the Normandy?"

"How close?"

"I could put you five meters above the ground, but then we'd have to worry about the thresher damaging the ship. Why?"

Another damage report sounded from Alenko spurred Jorge on.

"If I can get on that Grizzly, I can use the 280mm cannon to cover the ground team," Jorge replied. Comprehension dawned on Joker's face. Then a grin.

"Now there's an idea," he said evilly. "With one minor alteration. We can do it from here."

Remotely fire the cannon? Well, that was certainly a better option than exposing the Normandy to drop Jorge near the disabled tank and having him inside with a thresher maw running around. Jorge watched as Joker's hands flew over his haptic interface.

"Let's see... interfacing with the tank... done. Activating fire control..."

The interface in front of Joker showed a standard weapons HUD from the Grizzly, and bracketed right in the center was the menacing sight of the thresher maw, the scythe-like claws slashing at the air in front of it as it spat another glob of acidic digestive juices at the Mako. A symbol in the upper right corner turned green.

"Firing!" Joker said, stabbing at the interface.

The Mako was a light IFV, meant for reconnaissance and raiding. The 135mm cannon it sported was effective against light vehicles and infantry, but simply wasn't powerful enough to take on more heavily armored targets successfully. The 280mm cannon on the Grizzly Main Battle Tank was far more powerful, and had both higher exit velocity and a round size meant for tearing holes in other, similarly armored targets. They watched the soundless display as the round impacted the thresher just below the head. It flared its claws wide and quickly retreated below the ground, but it was obvious that it had been hurt.

+_What the hell was that?+_ Williams asked from the Mako.

"Oh, just some help from gigantor and little old me," Joker spoke through the comm.

+_Whatever you're doing, keep it up. I doubt it's gone just... Nine o'clock!+_ Shepard shouted.

The overhead display made things easy for Jorge and Joker. The only problem was that the turret couldn't get around fast enough for either of their liking. The screen showed a Mako scream by, then the thresher in the background as it spat another deadly globe at the retreating IFV. Joker hammered the fire button, and they were rewarded with a direct hit to the mouth of the thresher, blowing off one of the claws on the side of the face.

"Yea! How do you like that?" Joker shouted at the display as the thresher collapsed onto the desert floor, writhing in pain. The Mako once again charged onto the Grizzly's display, firing its cannon and the machine gun as well. Before another shot could be loaded, the thresher slipped below the surface. It did not reappear immediately, nor for pregnant seconds afterwards.

"Come on, come on," Joker said impatiently. All Jorge could do was watch over his shoulder.

Both were startled when the feed from the Grizzly began to move. It tilted crazily as the ground grew further away, before going into a slow rotation as it fell. The last image they saw was of the ground- and then static.

"Damn," Joker sighed morosely. Jorge swore in his native Hungarian.

+_Whew. Thresher is dead,+_ Williams reported, taking both by surprise.

+_That was too close,+_ Alenko spoke up.

+_Joker, was that you and Kadar up there firing the Grizzly cannon?+_ Shepard asked.

"Yep," Joker said proudly.

+_Good work, both you. That last round tore off half the mouth, we got a lucky shot on the brain while it was tossing the Grizzly around. We aren't too badly damaged down here, so we're going to check out some mineral readings we got on the way here. Shepard out.+_

"Nice shooting," Jorge complimented, putting a hand on the pilot's shoulder. Jorge knew Jeff had Vrolik Syndrome, so he took extra care to make certain his touch was lighter than air.

"That was kind of fun. The shooting part, not the whole 'being attacked by giant killer spaceworm' part."

-{()}-

And here we have an example of what Jorge is going to be doing while he's not on a mission. He'll be sitting in the cockpit listening to the ground feed with Joker, ready to go should Shepard call, rather than simply sitting around bored as I imagine the rest of the ground team does on away missions. I'm planning on glossing over most of these, after all nothing much really happens on most of those missions.

The original plan was for Jorge to be a badass and jump out of the Normandy into the Grizzly, firing his gun the whole way. While I like the image that conjures up for Spartans, I have to say this is probably a more likely scenario- I actually got the idea from the Noveria mission, where you can hack the Grizzly in the garage to provide fire support for you. Anyways, hope everyone liked what I did with the situation, I'm sorry to people who think he should have jumped anyways- don't worry, he's still a Spartan.

I hope I got Joker's characterization correct, he is quite an interesting character and it would be a shame if I screwed him up, so please tell me if I'm straying too far.


	12. Chapter 10

It was a thirty hour journey to the next system they wanted to search, the Macedon system. Thirty hours of sitting around and tweaking his armor well beyond perfection. He was bored. Again. If he could have, he would have gone into cryosleep, but those chambers weren't standard on any Alliance vessels. Fed up, Jorge sat down on his bunk and began working on his omni tool. He had pushed it to the back of his mind, with everything that had been going on, but now that he had a lot of free time, Jorge decided he could work on a personal project.

Reach was his home. It always would be. He was born there, he was trained there, and he had 'died' to save it. He loved his home dearly. It set him apart from the other Spartans; he had always had a connection with normal life that they had been denied, a link to the unaugmented men and women of his home. It also had motivated him to fight harder, for he knew that wherever the Covenant attacked, wherever the Insurgents bombed, Reach could be the next target, and he would never forgive himself when it fell. But where was it? He knew names- Epsilon Eridani System, 10.5 light years from the Solar System. A quick search for Reach back when he had been learning to use the omni tool revealed that humanity had not searched the area around their solar system- the discovery of the relay had usurped any thoughts of mere FTL exploration. Robotic explorers had visited the system briefly; most had had flybys from basic probes. Maybe he could start there.

"Am I interrupting?" a voice asked. Shepard. Looking up he saw her leaning against the Mako. He deactivated his omni and stood to attention quickly. She looked annoyed at that.

"At ease. Please, sit back down. I'd like to look you in the eye."

He sat back down heavily onto his bed, relaxed, hunched over slightly to look at Shepard. She was eyeing him again, as if searching for something. He kept his face as neutral as possible.

"I know you have problems with the non-humans aboard," she began, stepping towards him and crossing her arms. "What are they?"

"Security," was the first word out of his mouth. "This is an advanced ship. Giving access to unauthorized aliens is a major security risk to the Alliance."

"Fair enough. It is a matter of some concern, but that's MY problem, not yours."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Any other concerns?"

"No, ma'am."

"I don't believe that for a moment, Jorge."

"Ma'am?"

"On the Citadel you were so tense I thought we were walking into an ambush. At least, in the markets; you were fine in the human embassy, with only humans around. So what gives?"

Jorge shifted uncomfortably on his bed. "Its... turians. Just turians."

"Not krogan? Not quarians? Not salarians or asari?"

"No. I don't like krogan because they love to fight. I believe the others are security risks, but like you said, that's your problem."

"Yes," Shepard mused with a frown. "So what happened to make you dislike turians personally? I don't want you jeopardizing the mission... or my crew."

_What indeed_, Jorge asked himself. She was getting precariously close to suspecting something was wrong. And maybe she needed to know- Captain Anderson had been briefed, after all. Not only would it make his life easier, not having to worry about keeping something from her, but it would also allow her to use him in a more precise manner. No offense to Shepard, but his potential far outstripped what he had been used for so far. Jorge made his decision.

"I can't answer that," Jorge said slowly. "But Admiral Hackett can. Ask for my file. Tell him I think you need to know."

She had her head cocked at him now, and her eyes showed surprise. "Hackett, huh? Anything else you want to tell me?"

"No ma'am."

"Right then. I need to talk to the good Admiral."

-{()}-

_+Jorge, Garrus and Tali to the briefing room_,+ came Shepard's voice over the loudspeakers. Closing his omni, Jorge stood and headed around the corner of the Mako, towards the elevator. Working on the Mako, Garrus followed him as they headed towards the elevator.

"Any idea what this is about?" Garrus asked offhand. Jorge merely shrugged. Tali exited the engine room as they called the elevator.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Probably the briefing for the next mission, but I didn't think we were in to the next search area yet," Garrus replied.

"We're getting close, only a few hours out now," Jorge commented as they entered the cargo elevator. The silence as they waited in the elevator and up the stairs to the briefing room didn't bother Jorge, but the other two seemed a bit uncomfortable. Inside they found Shepard, pulling up images on the holographic screen at the back of the room. She finished as they took their seats.

"Alright everybody. This is the ground team for the next mission," Shepard began, turning around. They had taken their usual seats, Garrus and Tali next to each other opposite from Jorge. A touch of her omni brought the image of a planet to the forefront of the screen.

"This is Sharjila, only possible habitable planet in the Macedon System and our next search target. It has an ammonia-oxygen atmosphere and is considered a Level 1 pressure hazard, so full suits are required." Another button on her omni tool. The planet sank into the background to be replaced by the blue face of an asari. Light blue skin, with darker blue lip and a mottled coloring on her head folds.

"This is Nassana Dantius. She's an asari diplomatic emissary assigned to the Citadel. As we headed into the system, she contacted me via a secure channel. She heard I was in the area, and wished to ask for my help."

"Help with what?" Garrus asked.

"Hostage situation." There was a small hiss of breath from Tali. Jorge merely blinked as he studied the asari face.

"Nassana informed me that her sister, one Dahlia Dantius, has been taken prisoner by a band of mercenaries and is being held for ransom. She has already broken Citadel regulations and paid them out of her own pocket, but they have refused to release her sister." A low growl, barely audible, came from Garrus. Coupled with a slight lowering of his mandibles, Jorge clenched his fists and refocused on Shepard.

"I don't see how this concerns us, Commander," he told Shepard. "We have a high-priority mission, we shouldn't get sidetracked. I say we let the negotiators handle this and keep searching for Dr. T'Soni."

"We're in the system anyways. I think we can spare a few hours to take care of this," Shepard replied. Jorge held up his hands in defeat. She was the Commander here.

"Now, we have the blueprints for the compound on the surface, thanks to Ms. Dantius. I've got a few ideas, and I want your opinions on them."

-{()}-

Fitting in the Mako to get down to the surface hadn't been comfortable. The Mako had a two meter ceiling, which meant that Garrus had to hunch slightly, to say nothing of Jorge. He ended up sitting up against the rear wall of the small cargo area in the Mako, near where the door was. Only by grabbing at strap attachment points had he managed to stay in place while Shepard had landed and driven around. Becoming an inadvertent wrecking ball inside the cockpit would not be good.

Sharjila was very brown. The top layer of soil was dirty silica, a light kind that was disturbed very easily, resulting in general brown haze of an atmosphere. The result was a drab planet, a drab view, and a lot of maintenance for sandblasting and clogged joints. Not exactly ideal conditions, for fighting or living, on top of the pressure hazard.

Jorge was currently just inside the airlock doors of the compound, a boxy reception area/mud room, waiting for one of several signals from Shepard, who had gone inside a short time earlier in an attempt to infiltrate the facility. So far, stage one of the plan had gone off like clockwork. They landed in the Mako, drove to within walking distance, then dismounted and headed towards the compound on foot to prevent detection. There had been four guards, mercenaries, loitering outside the facility. Shepard and Garrus took care of them from range before they knew they were there, or even managed to get a message off to the inside of the facility. Stage one, complete.

Stage two was more dangerous. Shepard, Garrus and Tali would attempt to infiltrate the facility and quietly rescue the hostage. Depending on how many guards were inside, this could prove to be quite simple or completely impossible. Not to mention the possibility of a human-shield situation, which was the reason that Garrus and Tali were along- Tali had a program that would spoof overheating on weapons, shutting them down for a time, and Garrus had his omni-launcher that could disable shields. Between the two of them, they could prevent a human shield from being harmed long enough for a shot, or for the hostage to escape. Shepard had planned on this very situation.

Jorge was there for other contingencies. If worse came to worse, he could be summoned inside to help fight the enemies inside. Or, if the prisoner was being held in a contained area that Shepard couldn't get to, he had enough explosives to breach a wall- dangerous to the prisoner and anyone else in the room, to be sure, but an option nonetheless, which was why he was also carrying a pistol on his thigh in addition to his machine gun- he was the most accurate shot in case of a human-shield situation. He was backup, an asset that the mercenaries wouldn't know about until it was too late.

Jorge was radio silent, but he still listened in on the squad circuit Shepard had. He knew the moment that the infiltration attempt failed and became a full fledged firefight. But Shepard had not yet summoned him, so he waited. From the chatter, he tried to envision where in the compound where the enemies were, in relation to the blueprints that he had memorized. The door here opened to the right side of a single, large room, with stairs on the wall to his left, by him, leading to a second story with a partial balcony overlooking the room. His HUD laid out those that the team marked, through the wall; some were up on the second story, taking potshots at the team, others had come down the stairs and seemed to be constantly moving around the cover in the place.

It was not going as well as they hoped. Garrus and Tali were by the doorway, Shepard was a short distance away. Shepard was good, the best the Alliance had to offer. Garrus had some military training and seemed to have been shot at before, he sounded cool and collected under the fire they were taking. Tali had a waver to her voice, but she seemed to be holding her own. Despite all that, they were slowly being overrun by the numbers that the kidnapper was throwing at them. Twenty versus three was overwhelming until you learned how to deal with it. He should know- he usually fought outnumbered fifty to one or more.

Tali's figure flashed in his HUD- injury. He heard a number of quarian curse words his translator didn't catch before the medi-gel was automatically distributed through her suit. His suit's computer reported through his neural interface that her right arm was partially disabled- in addition to medi-gel numbing the breach, her suit had sealed it off as well, likely leaving the arm numb. A little green light flashed in the upper corner of the HUD. It blinked twice. Plan Two, Shepard was telling him. Apparently she didn't like Tali getting injured. Jorge hefted his gun... and proceeded to the door that led to the rest of the facility.

Plan Two was the most direct plan. It was directly after Plan One, which was "everything goes off perfectly", which of course never happens. Plan Two involved Jorge going in the front door and then the team proceeding to kill everyone except the hostage, with possible modifications to the plan based on various curveballs that they anticipated. Jorge liked this plan because it played to his strengths, literally and figuratively.

The doors opened and Jorge was greeted with the sight of his alien teammates, huddled behind a convenient crate near the door. Shepard was off to the left, attempting to prevent the enemies from using the stairwell. Beyond Tali and Garrus were several enemies, human and otherwise, firing to keep them in cover. As soon as they saw him, they immediately switched targets. Bullets pinged off his shields as he moved quickly past his teammates. As soon as he was clear, he pressed the trigger- and watched as every enemy in the room immediately focused on him. Jorge grinned grimly beneath his helmet; his heavy-caliber bullets tore apart a crate a human was using for cover before shattering the man's shields and killing him. This shouldn't prove too difficult, from the rate his shields depleted and the ease at which the targets went down.

Garrus kept the snipers on the balcony at bay, now that he could take time to line up shots. Shepard wasn't able to kill all who came down the stairs, but she weakened them enough that Jorge merely had to fire a burst at them. He didn't bother to take cover, instead electing to let his armor take the fire when his shields failed. Those who stuck their heads out to found that drawing Jorge's attention and ire was not the best decision. The mercenaries fell, one by one, with little trouble. The last three on the ground floor were in the far corner from the entrance, underneath the balcony. Jorge had them cornered behind a group of crates and was advancing on them when he heard a shout.

"Jorge, behind you!" Shepard's voice cried out. Jorge whirled, his enhanced reflexes kicking in. He hadn't quite finished pivoting when something slammed into him.

Jorge stumbled sideways a few feet before regaining his balance and facing his foe. It was an asari, dressed in what appeared to be a skin-tight leather suit, emitting an eerie blue glow- biotics, like Alenko. He wasted no time depressing the trigger. The machine gun at his hip sang, but the asari was fast enough to get out of the way before serious harm befell her. He kept up the fire at her cover as he advanced. He heard his shields depleting as the three mercenaries behind him opened fire on his distracted form.

The hollow crate the asari was hiding behind disintegrated under the firepower of the machine gun. As she stumbled backwards, the rounds tore into her barrier. They did not immediately collapse; she must have better equipment than the others. Her body glowed and Jorge saw the shearing force as it came off her arm at him. Spartan time kicked in as he attempted to dodge sideways while still firing.

It didn't help. He stumbled backwards a foot or two, his finger off the trigger as the gun jerked off mark- it was impressive that she was managing to move him as she was. Not much managed to move him without his consent in his MJOLNIR armor.

He was already turning back to the last three mercenaries. The asari lay dead on the floor, his last shots as she had been using her biotics had cut through her like a knife through butter. She bled purple, he noticed, before he re-engaged the men in the corner. Garrus had been kind enough to provide some covering fire- one of the three was dead, slumped with a hole through his head. The other two cowered while Jorge slowly tore away their cover. They were soon killed as well.

"Sorry 'bout that. She blew right past me," Shepard told him over the radio. "Tali, you alright? Good. Garrus, Tali, you're with me. Jorge, make sure no one gets back up."

While the commander headed upstairs, towards the last of the few remaining mercenaries, Jorge carefully began checking bodies, starting in the corner where he had finished. He listened idly as Shepard fought her way through the last bitter remains of resistance with no trouble. Minutes passed as he worked his way around the room. Not all were dead- some were merely unconscious from their wounds. Jorge did not allow them time to regain consciousness- they died without ever waking from a pistol-caliber bullet to the head, turians, humans, and batarians alike. His last was the asari.

She lay face down in a pool of purple blood, splayed out with one arm outstretched from her final act of defiance. A quick check of her pulse confirmed that she was dead, but still something seemed... off about this picture. He got the feeling he was missing something important with this body. Shaking off the feeling, he turned his attention to the pistol clutched in her lifeless hand.

It was higher quality than his current pistol, superior in terms of both damage and almost as accurate. Normally he wouldn't consider this at all, after all he had his weapon, but he was reminded of his early life training: the enemy is a resource- their weapons, ammunition, ideas, can become yours. Shepard couldn't afford the Master Spectre gear. But if their enemies had weaponry superior to their own, why not take their weapons and use them? And for that matter, the asari had demonstrated that her shield generator was superior... he could use that, the shields on his Alliance issue armor were woefully lacking.

"Commander," he said, opening the comm channel.

"Go ahead."

"Mind if I take some of the equipment the mercenaries had?"

"What are you talking about?" she said distractedly.

"The mercenary leader had a... Striker II. Better than the Kessler I's we have right now. I figure we can upgrade."

Silence for a moment.

"Sure, sounds good," she replied. She sounded flustered.

"You all right, Commander?"

Silence.

"Jorge, you near the asari?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Check her omni-tool. I want an ID, name, anything you can give me for identification."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He pecked at his omni as he attempted to access private information. He managed to get a name. It was enough. Instantly, he knew why he had been wondering about the asari. She had looked familiar.

"The asari's name is Dahlia Dantius," he reported back. "Looks like we've been played, Commander."

He got a swear in return.

-{()}-

I apologize for the delay. College has finally caught up with me. Progress on this chapter was slow, partially because I wanted to do a fair job with the battle. I'm not sure I succeeded there. Unfortunately, the next chapter will likely be just as slow in coming, I apologize in advance.

Also, if you have questions, check the QandA chapter, I've been updating it. Otherwise, ask them!

For those interested, the asari hit him with around a 750 Newton force, which seems consistent with the games- ME1 goes from 500 to 1000 newtons. Which, from the calcs I did, is about like being hit by a 250 lb guy going 15 mph, a four-minute mile pace. Which might be enough to flatten Shepard or Tali or even Garrus, but Jorge weighs over a ton in his armor- a 250 lb linebacker isn't exactly big stuff to him, same way a 250 lb linebacker isn't going to cause a lot of movement by running flat out into a parked car.


	13. Chapter 11

Downtime was something that Jorge was going to have to get used to. Cryo-stasis technology was in its infancy in this universe, which meant that he could not simply go into cryo during the long journeys between star systems. Unfortunate, but he'd adapt. He'd already found one way to use the extra time- search for his home, Reach. After getting back from the mission to Sharjila, he knew of another one- customizing his equipment. The tactics that Shepard had planned on using to take down the 'kidnappers' had exposed several vulnerabilities, in his mind. Vulnerabilities he would have to eliminate.

With that in mind, Jorge had spent the past hour and a half wrestling with his machine gun on the workbench, going through engineering diagram after schematic after circuit diagram on his omni tool. The gun had several panels removed, exposing a mess of circuitry and blinking lights. A few wires had tentatively been pulled. Jorge was smart, but he had no engineering experience or training. With a heavy sigh, he sat into the reinforced chair he had brought and began going over a number of circuit diagrams- again.

"What'cha doin, big guy?" Ashley quipped from his left. Lifting his head, he saw the Gunnery Chief holding a cup as she examined the mess on the workbench in front of her. Weapon maintenance was usually her job, the maintenance bench her place, but Jorge liked to fine tune his own weapons.

"Trying to figure out which wire to pull next," Jorge replied, rubbing his eyes. Staring at an omni was bad for normal eyes, worse for his enhanced eyes. Back in his universe, customizing his weapon usually meant welding on handles so he could grab the gun more easily, or bolting on extra ammo containers. He knew some stuff about computers, but the level of integration of computers and guns in this universe made it much harder for him to customize his equipment to the way he liked.

"What are you trying to do?" A sigh escaped his lips as he gathered his thoughts into a coherent stream.

"Tali has a program that spoofs overheating in weapons. If she has a program like that, others do too. I don't want my gun taken out in combat, so I'm trying to figure out some way of neutralizing it. I thought I could turn off the overheating alert function manually, but... there's a lot of failsafes, hardware and software."

"Of course there are," Ashley told him. "If everyone just turned off the overheating, peoples' guns would start _melting_ in the middle of a battle. They're not designed to be turned off, Kadar."

"I don't like the idea of someone hacking my _gun_. I need this turned off."

"Well, you could try to bypass the software... but that would mean hacking experience well beyond my level of expertise," Ashley replied thoughtfully. "Let's see... we could... turn off the overheating alert... oh, right..."

"I know. I think I got it," Jorge said, studying the diagram intently. One wire... was it that simple? Cautiously, Jorge pulled one end from its socket.

Instantly, every light on the gun went red and it began shrilling the 'overheat' sound at a deafening volume. He quickly plugged the wire back into the socket- nothing happened, if anything the complaints of the gun increased. Desperately, he fumbled with his omni-tool interface- only a hard restart of the weapon successfully turned off the alarm, after nearly a minute of constant annoying sound.

"Ouch," Ashley commented, taking her hands off of her ears.

"Whatever that was, don't do it again!" Garrus complained from the Mako. He proceeded to flare his mandibles and open his jaws, almost like a human trying to pop their ear. Off near the lockers, Wrex grunted out a laugh, then ignored Jorge's efforts once again.

"Sorry, sorry," Jorge grumbled in apology. Rubbing his eyes once, he hunched back over and began tracing over the circuit diagrams again. A hand fell on his shoulder.

"You can't do this," Ashley told him quietly. A flare of annoyance rushed through him. There was nothing he couldn't do! He just needed some time.

"I will," Jorge promised. She shook her head.

"The guns we have are meant to limit themselves, so they don't overheat."

"I can't afford to have the enemy control that," Jorge told her doggedly. His eyes resumed tracing paths over the circuits, trying to discern the meaning of the coding that he was seeing. It had to be possible, all he had to do was remove the features that prevented it from happening, whether that be the overheating mechanism or a software change. He would get it eventually.

"Then you need help," Ashley said, taking a sip of her drink. He gave a snort.

"If you're offering, I won't say no."

"I am offering, but I don't have a damn clue either. But I know someone who does. Garrus?"

Wait, Garrus? Why?

"Yes?"

"Think you could help us out over here?" Jorge facepalmed as he heard the clacking of the turian walking over.

"As long as you don't set off that alarm again, sure," Garrus replied. "What's the problem?"

"The Chief here is trying to... upgrade his gun," Ashley began. "Go, on, tell him."

Jorge sighed. He'd been hoping to keep this to himself, or at least within the Alliance. Ah well.

"I'm attempting to modify it so that you can't spoof overheating," Jorge summarized. "So I was trying to disable the overheat function manually. That was the alarm."

"Wait, this isn't a mod?"

"Nope," Ashley supplied. Garrus looked confused, at least that's what Jorge thought.

"I'm not sure how much I can help," Garrus confided. "I mean, I've modded a lot of weapons, but what you're asking for is more like a redesign. I've never gone to that level before... not really sure anyone has unless they were designing a brand new weapon. Sorry."

"Thanks," Jorge grunted out, annoyed. If they couldn't help him, he might as well muddle through by himself.

"So we need an engineer," Ashley summarized. Wait, of course! The Normandy had a full compliment of engineers!

"Probably, yes. Problem is, most of the engineers on this ship specialized in starship engineering and drive engineering, not weapons design," Garrus replied. Jorge felt his hopes drop again.

"Bet Tali could do it," Ashley said confidently. Inwardly, Jorge groaned. Garrus was at least an ex-military cop. Tali was just a civilian with some weapons training. Certainly, she could hold her own, but she just wasn't military. He still didn't know why Shepard had insisted on making Tali a part of the ground team, or even let her come along in the first place. This mission wasn't a place for civilians.

"She'd be the best one for what you want to do," Garrus agreed. "Though I'd be happy to take a look at the software..."

Jorge sighed in defeat as he slumped in the chair. If he wanted to get his gun working the way he wanted, he was going to need an alien to do it for him. Non-Alliance. But then again, she was supposed to be an ally. And Shepard trusted her. He doubted he would ever let go of his instinctive mistrust of aliens. Years upon years of combat against the Covenant saw to that. But if Shepard trusted Tali and Garrus, she must have her reasons, so who was he to argue?

"I'll ask Tali," Jorge said as he stood, interrupting the small talk Garrus and Ashley were having on the subject. He headed towards engineering, past the lockers, past Wrex who eyed him as he went by, and towards the drive core.

Inside was busy as usual, people attentively monitoring the great dark blue ball that powered the ship. He spotted the quarian immediately, her suit giving her away against the humans she helped. She was bent over a terminal on the left side of the core, concentrating on her task. She didn't notice Jorge as he walked up behind her, so he cleared his throat to get her attention.

She jumped visibly startled, and jumped again when she turned around and saw that it was him.

"Keelah, I didn't hear you," she stammered out. "How does someone so big walk so quietly?"

Jorge merely shrugged. All Spartan II's had gone through extensive combat training, up to and including stealth. Spartans were expected to be snipers and infiltrators in addition to field combat. Though Jorge's combat role had long since become being the biggest and loudest thing on the battlefield, his stealth training still unconsciously gave him a quiet gait.

"You have a moment?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I was hoping you could help me with my gun. I'm trying to modify it, but I've run into some problems," Jorge summarized. He heard footsteps to his side.

"Alright. Engineer Adams, do I have your permission?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll cover for you," Adams replied.

"So what exactly are you trying to modify?" she asked as they exited the engineering bay.

"I'm trying to disable my gun's overheat monitor," he began, ignoring the look of surprise that earned him. "I don't want the enemy to be able to sabotage my gun."

"You know that disabling that function could cause the gun to overheat and explode, right?" she asked him skeptically. She was already eyeing the bench with the partially disassembled gun.

"That's what I told him," Ashley said from behind. "But he doesn't listen."

"I don't care what we have to do to it. I can't afford to have the enemy disable my gun," Jorge told her. "If there's another way, I'll take it." Tali sighed, the light in her mouthpiece flickering as she did so.

"Well, I suppose there are a few other ways. Let me see what you've done, then we can figure out what to do from there."

-{()}-

So, Jorge isn't happy with his equipment. And he had to ask aliens for help, oh no!

This chapter took a long time, and it's short to boot. I know, I'm sorry. For those who haven't read my profile, I got swamped with school about a month ago and it hasn't let up since. Doesn't look like it's going to let up until the end of the semester, either, so unfortunately the story is essentially on hold until mid-May. I started this chapter just before I got swamped and I've been trying to finish it ever since. I didn't finish it the way I would have liked, but I want to get something out to you guys so you know I'm not dead.

As always, I read the reviews to try to answer any questions and address any story issues, so let me know what you think! It'll make the story better and make me a better writer!

Thanks for bearing with me.


	14. Chapter 12

The elevator opened, admitting four figures into the cargo bay. Two were feminine- Shepard and Williams. One bore the spiky outline of a turian. The last was the massive bulk of a fully armored krogan. The ground team for the next planet they were searching- Therum, in the Knossos System. Jorge, fully armored minus his helmet, ducked back behind the Mako to check that his bed was in order. Wouldn't do for his bedding to go flying out the cargo bay. Satisfied, he walked around the Mako in time to catch the team loading up. Shepard eyed him from in front of the hatch.

"Ma'am."

"You going to be up in the cockpit again?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am." She grinned.

"Good. Keep Joker out of trouble, would you?"

"Heh. 'Course, Commander."

Hefting his gun, helmet under the crook of his arm, he headed towards the freight elevator and on to the cockpit.

-{()}-

Jorge carefully leaned on the back of his chair in the debriefing room. He hadn't taken his armor off yet, and there was no way he could sit without breaking the chair. So he stood there, hunched over, eyes never wavering from the _Normandy_'s newest passenger: Dr. Liara T'Soni.

He'd been in the cockpit with Joker during the entire mission, listening to the ground team feeds when they were available. Finding Geth on Therum had been a surprise. It raised suspicions in his mind. The team had had found the good Doctor, trapped and utterly helpless yet safe. How convenient... too convenient. She was the daughter of Matriarch Benezia, confirmed follower of Saren, the apparent leader of the Geth. T'Soni could be a plant, to get information on the _Normandy_ and its actions... or worse, an assassin to kill Saren's pursuers. He refused to let either of those happen. And so Dr. T'Soni was under a very close scrutiny right now. At the moment, she looked uncomfortable in the chair- Jorge caught a number of nervous tics, from slight fidgeting to a reluctance to meet the eyes of others in the room. Especially his. Her attitude was timid, very shy. Was it real? Or an act?

He did have to admit that she was easy on the eyes. Compared to the split-jawed elites, or jackals, or other races of the Covenant, she was startlingly human, as were all asari. On the plus side, it made her human-like expressions easy to read, and made him far more at ease than a number of other aliens in this universe, like the turians. On the other hand, it was harder to remember that she wasn't human, and was older than he despite being 'younger' in terms of mental development.

The entrance slid open, diverting his attention for a moment. It was Shepard and Williams, back in crew fatigues. They immediately headed towards their seats. Jorge refocused on the doctor. As they took a seat, Joker came on over the loudspeakers.

"Too close, Commander. Ten more seconds and we would've been swimming in molten sulphur. The _Normandy_'s not equipped to land in exploding volcanos," Joker said sarcastically. "They tend to fry our sensor and melt our hull. Just for future reference."

Liara looked taken aback by those words for some reason. She turned to the Commander.

"We almost died out there and your pilot is making jokes?" she asked incredulously.

"Joker saved our asses. I think he's earned the right to a few bad jokes," Shepard replied with a sly grin. She stood now, commanding the attention of the room- at least, mostly. Jorge simply remained fixated on Liara. If she was an assassin, now would be a good time to strike, while the Commander was unprotected by armor. Admittedly, attacking now would likely be suicidal, but then, some people were fanatics. But while the Doctor leaned back to relax, Jorge saw no signs that she was preparing to strike.

"I... see. It must be a human thing," Liara said. Her eyes glanced around the room at the humans, avoiding Jorge's eyes. "I must admit, I don't have a lot of experience dealing with your species, Commander. But I am grateful to you. You saved my life back there. And not just from the volcano. Those geth would have killed me. Or dragged me off to Saren."

Innocent words. But she said them with sincerity.

"What did Saren want with you? Do you know something about the Conduit?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Only that it was somehow connected to the Prothean extinction. That is my real area of expertise. I have spent the past fifty years trying to figure out what happened to them," Liara replied. She seemed more comfortable, discussing topics that she was apparently quite familiar with.

"Did your research turn up anything interesting?" Shepard asked.

Jorge tuned out the conversation about the Protheans, listening but not really concentrating on it. He focused instead on evaluating the Doctor. She was young by Asari standards, barely over a hundred years old, yet had already dedicated half her life to examining the Protheans. With the knowledge she had, she could be a valuable asset to Saren, in his search for the Conduit. Keeping her was a necessity, with or without her cooperation- Saren could not get his hands on her.

With that in mind, there were a number of possible scenarios going through his mind. First, she was telling the truth. All this was an unhappy coincidence, and Shepard had managed to save a valuable ally and resource. Certainly possible.

Two, she was a plant. She had already been co-opted by Saren, had told him everything she knew, and had been planted on Therum as bait to get her onto Shepard's ship. Possible, and problematic. She could easily lure them with false info, from everything about Saren's wherabouts to false Prothean information that pointed them the wrong way. Worse, she could be a saboteur, and begin to quietly sabotage systems and computers to fail at critical moments. As of now, this was Jorge's running theory, assuming his suspicions were correct.

Three, she was an assassin. Either a fanatic who didn't care if she died, or one skilled enough that she thought she could successfully escape after murdering the Commander. Possible, but unlikely. She was too young, in his opinion, to have developed those skills yet. But there was still a small chance that this was correct, and that she would try to kill Shepard. This was his worst case, but also the most unlikely. He wasn't seeing anything in her physique or actions that would give her away as a finely honed killing machine- and he should know a thing or two about killing machines. Nevertheless, Jorge would be prepared for anything.

"Of course. You are right. I am sorry," Liara said as Jorge rejoined the conversation. "My scientific curiosity got the better of me. Unfortunately, I do not have any information that could help you find the Conduit. Or Saren."

"I don't know why Saren wanted you, but I think we'll be a lot better off with you out of his hands. Welcome aboard," Shepard said.

"Thank you, Commander. Saren..."

"Commander," Jorge said, cutting the doctor off. Everyone focused on him. "Are we sure we can trust her?" Liara seemed to wilt at that, becoming nervous once again.

"I agree," Ashley voiced. "How do we know she's not working for Saren? Her mother is Benezia."

"I am not my mother!"

"Why can't we trust her, Jorge? Care to elaborate?" Shepard asked. Her eyes were once again fixed on him, weighing his words.

"She'd been down there for what? Two days, right? Trapped in a field where she couldn't move. That's two days for the Geth to find a way around the barrier. Forty-eight hours is a long time. But they couldn't do it. Then you come in and fifteen minutes later you're past the barrier? I like to think our enemies are smarter than that, Commander. Dr. T'Soni could very well be a plant by Saren."

"True," Shepard allowed. "But then, that Krogan commander down there was all brute force, no imagination. I don't have a hard time believing he didn't think of our solution. And I trust Liara. She's on our side. But you are entitled to your own opinion." She turned to Liara.

"Good to have you on the team, Liara."

"Thank you, Commander. I am very gratef-"

She seemed to swoon, and it looked like it took conscious effort to stay sitting upright and awake.

"-whoa. I am... afraid I am feeling a bit light-headed," Liara said, massaging her temples.

"When was the last time you ate? Or slept? Dr. Chakwas should take a look at you," the Lieutenant recommended.

"We're done here. Crew, dismissed. Lieutenant, show her to the med-bay."

"Want me to patch you through to the Council?" Joker asked over loudspeaker.

"Patch them through, Joker."

Jorge took that as his queue to leave as well. He followed the Lieutenant and the asari down the stairs- one look over her shoulder at the massive armored figure following her and Dr. T'Soni was once again nervous. He stopped at the elevator, but his eyes didn't leave the Doctor's back until the med-bay doors closed. He stepped into the elevator.

_But you are entitled to your own opinion_, Shepard had said. What exactly did she mean by that? That he should follow his own beliefs?

If that was the case, he would keep any eye on Dr. T'Soni. He would follow his training, and neutralize any threat that she might present.

-{()}-

Doctor T'Soni was an expert on the Protheans, no doubt about that. There weren't a lot of hard facts on them, yet she had written a number of papers and gotten several sponsorships from apparently renowned Asari universities. Granted, a lot of what made up these papers was speculation, but the Doctor was quite explicit in her separation of fact from fiction and her conclusions were well explained and made logical sense. Her records were quite public due to the nature of her work, which made her very easy to track. She had no obvious military training, but several military reports stated that she was a potent biotic who had occasionally defended herself from pirates. They were ripe for the taking, what with all the priceless artifacts, and she had more than once spent several years almost completely alone with important digs. His fears about her being a saboteur or assassin had diminished greatly- if this was indeed Dr. T'Soni, then she would not have had time in her life to learn the necessary skills to hinder them too badly. Of course, he didn't know whether they had gotten the REAL Dr. T'Soni or not. There was only one way to find out- and only one person to ask.

Dr. Chakwas was working at her terminal in the empty medical bay when he came in. She was probably the oldest human currently on the ship, older by a decade or more than himself. She wore her grey hair well, and had an air of kindness and approachability about her that filled the bay. Noticing Jorge arrive, she swiveled in her seat.

"What seems to be the problem?" she said in a kindly voice.

"Not me, Doctor," Jorge replied. "I was hoping you could run a genetic comparison for me, though."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem, but why?"

"I'm concerned about Dr. T'Soni."

"Ah. Well, that shouldn't be too hard, I took a blood sample when she came down to see me," the older woman said, standing. She made her way over to the wall and opened a built in storage compartment, retrieving a small vial of violet liquid. "Though do keep your voice down, Dr. T'Soni has taken up residence in the next room."

"Have you noticed anything suspicious?" he asked quietly.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary. She's spent most of the time since her rescue asleep from what the computer tells me. Probably for the best, she hadn't slept in nearly two days," the Doctor told him. She inserted the vial into a large machine that set against one of the walls. Her omni came to life with a flash, and after a few button taps it vanished again, the machine before her humming slightly.

"She seems like the nice sort. Curious, though; she seemed absolutely fascinated by my hair," the Doctor said in an amused tone. She turned to face him. "I don't think she'd ever seen a human in person before. That moustache of yours must have given her quite a turn."

Jorge self-consciously touched the moustache in question before dropping his hands. He hadn't thought of that; he'd assumed that she, being from a galaxy where humans were common, had seen humans before. Upon further reflection, it was entirely possible they were the first humans she had seen up close. She was over a hundred years old, and humanity had only been introduced into the galaxy a handful of decades ago... maybe that's why she hadn't met his eyes, why she had been so nervous. She hadn't wanted to be impolite and stare at him, and it must have been stressful to be debriefed with a bunch of aliens looking to her for the answers. Especially with him staring at her the whole time, ready to put her down at the slightest notice. Maybe she was clean.

Maybe.

"What do you think of her, Doctor?"

"Hmmm... she seems like a nice young woman. Very smart, but not very knowledgeable about anything outside the Protheans. She's got a good heart; I'm certain she'll help us any way she can."

"Did she mention anything of her mother?"

"No. Though Shepard made mention of her when she visited. She told Liara not to worry about her relationship, that she trusted Liara."

Jorge snorted. The Commander didn't waver once she got an idea into her head. It would probably take nothing less than being caught red-handed to convince her otherwise at this point.

The Doctor's omni chimed. Turning back to the machine, she took the vial of blood and put it back into its holder in the wall storage compartment. A few more taps on her omni and she had his answer.

"The computer identifies the blood as that of Dr. Liara T'Soni, with 99.98% accuracy. Does that answer your questions?" she asked kindly.

"Yes. Thank you, Doctor."

So, she was Dr. T'Soni, not an impostor. That dropped his conspiracy odds to pretty much nil. She was probably telling the truth, and had somehow gotten mixed up in this whole mess, only for Shepard to swoop in and save her. She likely wasn't an active agent for Saren.

But her mother was still Matriarch Benezia. And that could mean trouble still.

-{()}-

Here you guys go. Not a lot of action. Jorge didn't get taken down to Therum, all he did was sit up in the cockpit with Joker and listen in pretty much. And poor Liara- having a seven foot four alien in heavy battle armor staring at you like he's just _waiting_ for you to screw up... that must have sucked. Fortunately Shepard's the nice sort.

I didn't mention any improvements to his gun this chapter because he didn't go into battle. I know, sorry. Probably going to be another chapter or two before that happens, but I'll be sure to give you guys the full rundown of what Tali did when it happens. This also means as a consequence that I am still open to suggestions on what he modified, though I do have a fairly good idea of what I want to happen, so if you guys have ideas for improvements put them in reviews or pm me. I'll make it a priority to answer any posts with possible improvements in mind, so I can explain my reasoning.

Also, for anyone unfamiliar with Jorge, do a google image search- probably good to visualize the character. Anyways, I have never seen anyone else in the Mass Effect universe with just a moustache- I'm not even sure you can give it to MShep in character creation. Everyone probably stares at him as much for the moustache as they do for his size.

On a different note, I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up. The end of school slammed me, and after that, well, I just didn't really feel like doing much of anything productive, including writing. Trying to shake that off now, hopefully it won't be another full month before the next chapter.

I've also started work on another story, one that I don't plan to post until it is completely done. So that may be another source of slowdown to the story over the next few months.

Last but not least, thanks for reading my story.


	15. Chapter 13

_Operations Chief Kadar to the Commander's quarters_, blared the intercom.

Jorge looked up from his omni, on which he was analyzing the data telemetry that had been sent from the Epsilon Eridani system. The probe hadn't sent back many photos, but it had sent back atmospheric readings, luminosity, spectrum results, and other bits of data that Jorge was attempting to assemble into some sense. And was having no luck, to be honest.

Ashley was looking at him quizzically from the workbench. Jorge gave her a shrug to indicate his own lack of knowledge before standing and heading towards the elevator. He had some suspicions about why the Commander would call him there, but no proof as of yet.

Inside, he found Shepard holding a pad in her hands as she sat at the small table that the room came equipped with. It was usually used for debriefings by the senior officer. She gestured for him to sit down without looking up from her pad.

"I heard you went to see Doctor Chakwas, about blood samples from Doctor T'Soni," she started, putting the pad down.

"Yes ma'am."

"Well?"

"We have Dr. T'Soni on board," Jorge stated.

"Does that mean you trust her?" Jorge shook his head.

"No ma'am. I don't think she's an agent of Saren, and I believe she belongs on board the _Normandy_, but I have some private concerns still."

"I might be taking her on ground missions. Can you work with her?"

That gave Jorge a pause. True, the reports he had seen from the pirate raids showed that she was capable of taking care of herself. Even so, she was no soldier. She didn't belong on the battlefield. But… then again, neither did Tali, and yet she had proven that she was capable of keeping up with Shepard and contributing something useful. Doctor T'Soni was a biotic- perhaps she could contribute something useful as well? Shepard had already seen the usefulness of Tali in combat when he hadn't, perhaps the Doctor had some use as well.

But that didn't answer the question Shepard had asked. If the Commander brought her and him along together, could he work with her?

"Yes, ma'am." _I trust her enough to watch my back, if Shepard does… in most situations._

Shepard smiled. "Good. Now, on to other matters. Computer, de-activate all recording devices in this room and seal the doors, authorization Shepard- Bravo Lima Two Five."

_Command confirmed. All recording devices de-activated. Door sealed against intrusions_, the computer intoned. Jorge looked at her curiously.

"I talked to our mutual friend the Admiral a few days ago. Told him what you said to me. He said he'd try to work something out. Then, this morning, I got an encrypted transmission, which was followed by an even more encrypted transmission." She held up the data pad.

"Four-hundred and thirty pages, and it's all about you from what I gather." She put the pad back down. "So, now that I have full security clearance, I want to know, Jorge."

"It's all in the report, ma'am," he replied with a shrug. A look of distaste passed on her face.

"I would prefer to hear at least some of it from the horse's mouth," she replied, shooting a resigned glance towards the pad.

"Alright. How much have you read?" She shot him a guilty grin.

"Nothing but the first page of the introduction. I was hoping I could get most of the story from you." He chuckled at her predicament.

"Well, ma'am, I'd read it. It makes for interesting reading, or so I'm told. Anyways, if you read the first page, you know at least a little bit- that I am not from this universe."

"I read that, but… it's a bit hard to believe. I thought I might have been reading the wrong paper."

"No, ma'am. The scientist's best guess is that the multiverse theory of the universe is true, and that I originated in a separate universe."

"Multiverse?"

"Yes ma'am. There is a theory that there is not one universe, but many, running essentially parallel to one another. Each universe is theorized to be different in some way- whether it is something as minor as someone liking tea rather than coffee, to something as large as the existence of alternate alien races, or changes to the fabric of the universe itself."

"So what's different about your universe?"

"Time, first of all. It is 2552 AD in my universe. Second, humanity stands alone, and we have encountered aliens separate from any of the known races in this universe. Third, humanity uses a different form of faster-than-light, as eezo hasn't been discovered. Fourth…"

"Alright, I get it. Could I get a summary?" Jorge thought for a moment on that.

"It's a long story."

"We have time," she said, settling into her chair. "Besides, it can't be as long as this report." Jorge leaned back in his own.

"Humanity expanded to the solar system in the mid 2000's. Mars, Jupiter's moons, etc. It was around this time that the United Nations Space Command was created, to police the various colonies. There were all sorts of political problems at the time, but with nowhere else to go, the UNSC eventually got everything under control."

"In 2291, two scientists by the names Wallace Fujikawa and Tobias Fleming Shaw invented the slipspace drive. In essence, it opens a wormhole to an alternate plane known as slipspace. This new plane doesn't follow standard physics rules, can be traversed much faster, and at the end of the journey the drive activates again and the ship returns to normal space. As you can imagine, this was a major breakthrough, and allowed exploration and colonization on a galactic scale. Colonization began immediately. By 2500, humanity had nearly 800 colonies." He watched her gape at the number- humanity in this universe had been restricted to far less than that so far, even counting the areas near the Terminus where the Council encouraged settlement.

"That's when the trouble started," he recalled, nodding to himself. He hadn't really even been born yet, but he knew the events all too well. "Eight hundred colonies is a lot of political ground to cover. The UNSC couldn't police everything all the time. Some of the Outer Colonies began a rebellion. Hundreds more planets threatened to erupt as well. It was predicted that in less than twenty years, the UNSC would face overwhelming odds. Humanity would be plunged into civil war. A number of different possibilities for preventing the rebellion were explored; one was headed up under one of the most brilliant scientists of the time, Dr. Catherine Halsey. Her project, known as the Spartan-II Program, attempted to create the ultimate soldier. I was a member of the program. It was hoped that these soldiers could deal with the insurrectionists without incurring the massive civilian casualties inherent in a full military operation. But before the insurrection could gain too much steam, something else happened." She looked at him expectantly.

"In October of 2525, contact with the Outer Colony of Harvest was lost. The UNSC sent a destroyer and two frigates to investigate. The destroyer, badly damaged, managed to limp back, carrying with it a message, broadcast by the aliens." He paused, remembering back to when he heard the first words ever spoken to man by extraterrestrials.

"_Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we are their instrument_. These were not turians, nor asari, or any race you know. It was a collection of races that had grouped together to form a religious collective called "The Covenant". They declared humanity an affront to their gods, and began a war of extermination." He did not miss the surprise and horror in her eyes.

"From then on, we fought a losing battle. The Covenant had superior technology compared to the UNSC. Overwhelming numbers were often the only way to secure a victory, either in space or on the ground, and they were usually Pyrric victories at that. Colonies began to fall, their populations exterminated and their surfaces glassed. Admiral Preston Cole issued the Cole Protocol in 2534, which stated that no ship may inadvertently lead the Covenant to Earth or any other population center; the assault barely slowed." He hung his head.

"By 2552, the Covenant had destroyed a majority of humanity's colonies. Then they came for Reach. Second in physical power only to Earth itself, Reach was a fortress among the stars, our most valuable and most well defended planet, second only to Earth. But they found it. A supercarrier managed to evade our defenses and land troops on Reach." He paused.

"Reach was where I was born," he continued in a low voice. "It was where the Spartan-II project took place. It was my home. So when a plan was hatched to destroy the carrier using a makeshift bomb, I went with it. We managed to capture a troop carrier and set it back towards the carrier… but the bomb's makeshift timer was damaged. Someone had to set it off manually." He paused, remembering the moment. "I set off the makeshift slipspace bomb, sending the troop carrier and half the assault carrier to slipspace." He saw the solemn face before him.

"We had no destination… but somehow, I ended up here, in this universe, in orbit around the colony of Tempest. From there, I joined the Alliance, and got assigned to you, Commander."

There was silence for a while, more respectful than stunned. Then Shepard gave a heavy sigh.

"Fine. I'll read the damn report. However, there are a few questions I _would_ like the answers to now, if I can get them. First off, what's with the reaction to turians?" Of course she would ask about that.

"One of the most dangerous races of the Covenant had mandibles, much like the turians. When they were angry, they would flare them out much like a turian flares theirs. They would usually charge after they did this, so I associate flared mandibles with mortal danger- and react accordingly."

"Which race is this?" Shepard said as she scrolled furiously on the pad.

"Their proper name is _sangheili_, but they were nicknamed 'Elites' by the UNSC soldiers. There should…"

Shepard's head reared back, a look of surprise and shock on her face.

"… be some pictures in the report," he finished lamely. He knew the photo she must have seen- it was a close up of an Elite, its jaws flared and its arms raised, milliseconds away from hitting something with the butt of its plasma rifle. Not the photo he would have chosen for a report, but he had merely provided the information and camera footage while Alliance officers had put the report together. She was studying the pad intensely now.

"Hmmm… I suppose I can see that," she said, deep in thought. "What other races were in this 'Covenant'?"

"Seven alien races in total. The report has the full details, but at the bottom were the grunts- they were literally known as 'grunts' to the UNSC. Small, no more than five feet in height, they were basically methane-breathing cannon fodder. Next were the jackals, around five and a half feet tall, bird-like. Frail, but they make excellent snipers and they're fast when they want to be. Then there are drones- flying, bug-like creatures as big as the average human. They aren't dangerous individually, but in swarms they can be deadly. The last minor species are known as 'hunters'. They're damn near fifteen feet tall and armored head to foot in near-impenetrable armor. Worse, they come in pairs. Covenant use hunters as heavy support and vehicle killers. Just below the Elites are the Brutes- massive apes standing eight and a half feet tall. You can probably guess from the name that they are very strong, and very tough. At the top of the Covenant are the Prophets, frail bulbous-eyed creatures that guide the religion and thus the entire Covenant. They also make use of a race… well, more like creature, the UNSC hasn't really decided yet if it is sentient or not… known as Engineers. They look like the gas bags on Eden Prime, but they are amazing at fixing and improving technology from the reports."

"Hmmm… sounds interesting," Shepard said, reluctantly putting the pad down. "But, onto other things. What about your skills?"

"I wasn't lying when I said I was a part of the Spartan Program. The goal was to create the ultimate soldier. I was trained in all the skills I mentioned to you when I came aboard, and augmented well past the typical capabilities of a human."

"What kind of augmentations?"

"No genetics, like the Alliance does to its soldiers. The Spartan Program used an experimental procedure never before seen to enhance us. Musculature enhancement injections, to increase muscle density and decrease lactose recovery time. An experimental bone procedure that coated the subject's bones in a ceramic, making the bones virtually unbreakable…"

"Wait, as in they grafted metal onto your bones?"

"Coated them, in an advanced material that I don't know the name of. Worked, though. I haven't broken a bone since the procedure, despite getting tossed around like a rag doll more than a few times. Anyways, they also gave us growth hormones to make us physically larger. Did something I don't understand to my eyes, resulting in incredible low light vision and better visual detail. Lastly, they replaced our nervous system with superconducting fibers, resulting in a massive increase in reaction times. As a product of the Spartan-II project, I am bigger, faster, stronger, tougher, more perceptive, and perhaps smarter, than other humans."

She was looking at him with narrowed eyes now, her mouth pursed. _What did I say?_

"So you mean to say," she said slowly, "That I have, on my crew, at my command, the biggest, baddest soldier humanity has ever seen?" He nodded slowly. She facepalmed.

"And naturally, nobody saw fit to inform _me_, your immediate superior, so that I could actually _use you to the best of your abilities_," she said wearily to the air.

"Sorry ma'am." She waved him off, dismissing the apology.

"Not your fault, Jorge. And I'm sure Admiral Hackett has been fighting to get this released to me for days now. Such is the government. Anyways, what about your armor?"

"Mjolnir Mark IV, Grenadier variant. Not the most recent model of armor, but it's been upgraded to be just as good. The plates are a titanium composite, with a refractive coating to help disperse heat from plasma weapons. The black undersuit is a titanium-weave, capable of stopping bullets and even knives. Under all that is a gel layer, for heat regulation and protection, and a reactive metal liquid crystal layer. The reactive metal layer is the real key to the armor- it increases the user's reaction times, strength, and durability all at the same time. The entire suit is powered by a miniature fusion reactor in the chest."

"Any chance we'll see this 'reactive metal liquid crystal layer' incorporated into our tech?"

"Doubtful, ma'am. Normal soldiers in my universe can't use the Mjolnir, the suit is too fast. The first marine to test the suit literally ripped himself apart because he couldn't react fast enough to control the crystal layer. Only Spartans have fast enough reaction times. That, and it is extremely expensive. I heard someone complaining once that my armor alone cost more than a frigate." She looked disappointed by that.

"That's unfortunate. It would be a real jump forward if we could reverse engineer that tech. Well, that's all I have for now. I suppose I should start reading this report now if I ever want to finish it," she sighed. "Computer, reactivate cameras and unseal the doors."

_Command confirmed. Security cameras re-activated. Door unlocked._

"Thanks for your insights, Jorge. Dismissed."

Jorge stood and snapped off a quick salute before leaving. By the time he had left, Shepard was already up to her nose in the data pad.

-{()}-

"Jorge?" Ashley asked. He looked up from the armor he was upgrading, his Alliance-issue set.

"You've been at that for a while now. Wanna join some of us for dinner?" she asked.

Jorge shrugged and nodded. It had been several hours since his conversation with the Commander, during which Jorge had commandeered Ashley's workbench to upgrade his armor. He didn't yet have the materials to make upgrades to his satisfaction, but he could at least replace his weaker shields with a stronger generator that had been salvaged over the last several missions. Furthermore, it was past dinner on the ship, which was when most of the ground crew usually went, after the crew had eaten, so that they had some space. He headed to the mess alone, Williams wanted to ask Tali too. At the mess he found Alenko, Wrex and Garrus in various states of either gathering dinner or eating it.

"Well now, this is a surprise," Garrus commented. It was a sentiment that was shared on Alenko's expression. Wrex merely gave him a look over before returning to his food.

He usually just grabbed a tube of nutri-paste and got back to whatever he was doing. Tasted like mulched cardboard, but then again he'd survived on similar stuff for near twenty years now. He'd only eaten with the rest of the ground team once before, when they'd managed to catch him before he got a tube, just like Ashley had done tonight. With that in mind, Jorge headed towards the food packets for a proper meal. Williams and Tali appeared just as he finished preparing the freeze-dried steak meal, chatting idly to themselves.

"How's the armor upgrade going?" Garrus asked idly as Jorge sat down.

"You're upgrading your armor?" Alenko asked before he could answer.

"Shields are too weak. So I replaced them with a mark III we found. Nearly doubled the shields," he commented as he cut the now-cooked steak.

"Really?" Alenko asked, surprised. "Last time I saw you with that armor on you took on five geth with assault rifles."

"He's talking the Onyx armor, not his… you know, I don't think we've ever heard what your other armor is," Ashley said as she sat down.

"Mjolnir," Jorge supplied, biting down into a chunk of steak. "Mjolnir Mark IV."

"Meolner?" Garrus asked. "Never heard of that armor type before."

"Wouldn't be on commercial markets. Oy!" Jorge redirected a scaly hand that was attempting to grab his food tray.

"This is mine, get your own!" he growled at the krogan.

Across from him, Wrex retracted his hand and stood with a deep chuckle. They could hear his heavy footsteps all the way to the elevator.

"What was that about?" Tali asked. Both Jorge and Garrus answered her at the same time.

"He wants to fight me."

"He's probably trying to provoke Jorge into a fight."

Jorge suppressed the urge to flinch at the sound of his first name. Everyone was using it, and he couldn't very well tell everyone else to address him by his rank only when Shepard, Williams and Alenko addressed him by first name.

"He's probably been spoiling for a fight with Jorge ever since he saw him," Garrus continued. "Krogan love to test themselves in battle. Jorge is probably the first human that looks like he could take a krogan in an even fight."

"Could you?" Tali asked. The glowing eyes behind her mask were wide. It made her look young and innocent… which, he had to admit, she _was_ pretty young and innocent.

"Probably."

"Now THAT I have to see," Ashley crowed. Garrus was shaking his head. Alenko was pointedly eating his dinner.

"Where's Shepard?" Alenko asked after a while.

"Took dinner in her room. Said something about having to read a report," Garrus idly replied, finishing his dextro nutri-paste. The way he had been staring at that last little bit, Jorge thought that he must not enjoy it very much. Probably tasted the same as all the levo nutri-pastes.

"Damn. And here I thought that if we got Jorge, Shepard was guaranteed to be here," Alenko commented.

"Did she say what the report was about?" Ashley asked. Garrus shook his head.

"Didn't ask," he told her. "But, a better question is, where's Liara?"

"Haven't seen her since the debriefing. I don't even know where she is," Alenko confessed.

"She's taken up residence in the lab behind the med bay," Jorge supplied.

"Wonder what she's doing in there," Ashley said in a flat tone.

_Getting set up with her university and downloading everything ever written on the Protheans_, Jorge idly thought to himself. At least, that's what she had been doing before he had stopped actively monitoring her activities. And since the security trips he had set up to warn him if she was accessing anything she shouldn't hadn't been tripped yet, he didn't particularly care what she was doing at that exact moment.

"You still don't trust her," Garrus remarked.

"No," Ashley said, shaking her head. He turned to Jorge.

"What about you? You didn't like her during the debriefing."

"I trust her, for the most part," he said, finishing his corn.

"For the most part?" Garrus echoed.

"Why do you trust her _at all_?" Ashley asked. She didn't seem to like him shifting camps.

"Did some research. I don't think she could do much to hamper us, and she could be useful. I trust Shepard's judgment," Jorge replied.

"But you said 'for the _most_ part'," Garrus replied, watching him. "That implies there are still some times when you wouldn't trust her."

"That's right." His attempt to end the conversation didn't work.

"So when wouldn't you trust her?" Alenko asked.

"I'll know when."

"But the rest of us won't." Jorge gave Alenko an annoyed sigh.

"I will not trust Liara if and when we face her mother," he told the table. Conversation stopped.

"Liara wants to stop Benezia," Tali said quietly.

"And stop Saren. Family relationships have nothing to do with it," Garrus agreed. Jorge gave Garrus a long look.

"If the person I consider to be my mother," he began slowly, "joined my enemy… then she must have had a very good reason… and I would seriously consider joining them as well. And even if I did not defect… I would not be able to kill her should I confront her face to face."

He stood silently and cleared the remains of his meal. There was no sound from the table as he made his way back to the freight elevator.


	16. Chapter 14

Jorge took his time fitting the heavy Mjolnir armor. There was time to make certain it was comfortable and in working order. Across the bay, leaning against her workbench with an expression of mild curiosity, Gunnery Chief Williams watched. Beside her, Staff-Lieutenant Alenko also idly watched. Neither apparently wanted to miss Jorge lifting a four hundred pound chest plate like it was a toy. They were easy enough to ignore. They'd get bored soon enough. The scientists and fellow soldiers on Arcturus had after a few times.

Soon the only remaining armor piece was the helmet. He set it on the ground as he packed away his bedding. Out of sight, he heard the clank of the freight elevator. Both Alliance ground team members headed for it, chatting amiably about something. His sensitive ears also discerned a distinct feminine tone, one that was clearly nervous.

"Shepard, I… I am not certain why you are taking me on this assignment. I am an archeologist, not a soldier…"

"Liara, you've had to defend yourself on your digs, right?"

"Yes, but…"

"From the reports I've read, you did magnificently. This will be no different."

Jorge grabbed his helmet in one hand and machine gun in the other before walking around the corner of the Mako. Exiting the elevator was the Commander, Dr. T'Soni, and Tali, all outfitted in combat gear with their weapons. The Doctor was visibly nervous and uncomfortable, rubbing her lightly armored hands together as she feebly protested being taken on the next mission.

"Ready Op Chief?" Shepard asked.

"Loaded for bear, ma'am."

"Good. Tali, get it started up, we drop in five," Shepard commanded. Obediently, the quarian figure disappeared into the Mako. She turned to the blue woman next to her.

"Now, Liara, you are coming along for a number of reasons, first and foremost because I believe that you will be useful, and second because I want to see you in action for myself so I can gauge what you're capable of. We might not even see any combat."

"Then… why is he carrying a machine gun?" Liara asked uneasily.

"Jorge always carries a machine gun, it's his weapon of choice," Shepard shrugged. "Liara, please, this is a polite request. I want to see what you can do with my own eyes. I guarantee that no harm will come of you during this mission. Everything will be fine, alright? I promise." She hesitated for a moment.

"… Alright, Shepard."

Shepard smiled triumphantly before turning and going through the Mako hatch. Jorge gestured for the Doctor to go first, keeping his expression polite. She did not need to see his suspicion or concern.

-{()}-

"Approaching the probe's coordinates," Tali intoned from her seat in the Mako, the haptic interface flashing in front of her.

Ahead, Jorge saw the steep hill that the probe was likely on and reached for the cargo straps in preparation. Shepard, driving the Mako, took the hill with no subtlety. Tali braced herself, but Liara seemed a bit too shocked and didn't. The front view nearly smashed into the side of the hill, before the massive shocks compensated and left them looking at nothing but sky. A second later the Mako climbed to the top. There was nothing there.

"It looks like it's at the…" Tali began. "Eep!"

Both Tali and Liara reacted out of instinct as Shepard drove off the side, gaining a fair amount of air as it charged off the hill too fast to cling to the steep sides. Jorge, prepared, kept his hands locked around his machine gun and the cargo straps as he went weightless for half a second. Then the wheels touched ground, slamming them into the bottom of their seats, or in Jorge's case, the floor. He landed hard on his tailbone, but his armor absorbed all the discomfort.

"Was that really necessary, Shepard?" Liara asked from her side station. He saw Shepard smirking as she turned her seat to get her helmet.

"Maybe, maybe not. Seal up, Liara, we're going outside."

Eletania. A beautiful planet, to be sure. A ring was visible in the sky, as was a large moon. The sky itself was a deep blue, with puffy clouds spread around. The area around them was a verdant green of grasses and mosses, a lush valley in the middle of a mountain range. With a rich oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, it was a prime garden world, one any settler would likely dream of living on.

Unfortunately, the planet had evolved a local biology based around airborne microscopic creatures. Impossible to filter from the air, the microscopic creatures were necessary to the ecosystem of the planet… and caused anaphylactic shock when inhaled by any known non-native life. Which meant that any potential colony required either a complete replacement of the local biosphere, against Citadel conventions for possible life-bearing worlds, or would need fully sealed environmental suits and structures. Something too expensive for colonial investors when there were other, equally enticing worlds that wouldn't kill unprotected colonists.

And yet it was here that Jorge found himself stepping out the Mako, machine gun ready. Behind him was Shepard, followed by Tali and Liara. In front of them was the wreckage of a small space probe, and what looked like a few dead monkeys. Jorge secured the area while the other three checked the downed probe.

It was a spy sensor platform, one that the Alliance had been using to gather data on geth movements when it had vanished. Telemetry had tracked it to Eletania, where Hackett had promptly diverted Shepard when he saw they were in system. Their orders were to retrieve the data module before anyone else could gain access. The cause of the crash was unknown, but if the Geth were involved, it paid to be cautious. However, at the moment there was nothing on the scope, nothing hostile at least. Content that the area was secure, Jorge straightened from his combat stance and dangled his gun on one arm as he made his way over towards the rest of the team.

"These creatures have suffered electrical burns," Liara commented, kneeling over one of the dead monkey-like critters.

"This is the missing Alliance probe, but where's the data module?" Tali asked from the wreckage.

It wasn't the team Jorge would have brought. This was an Alliance matter, it made sense to him to take the Alliance crew members, if for nothing other than for informational security. Shepard had overruled his token protests as usual, though. He did have to admit that there was little danger of any problems; the data module was designed to be incompatible with omni-tools for this very reason, and was encrypted as well. And it would be good to see if Doctor T'Soni was capable of contributing to the ground team, in combat or otherwise.

"Check that circular section, looks like it should be intact. Report, Jorge?"

"Area secure, Commander."

"Good. Tali?"

"The data module isn't here, Shepard."

Had the Geth already found it? Shepard looked deep in thought under her helmet.

"Liara, what did you say about these… monkeys, I guess?"

"Each of these 'monkeys' has suffered severe electrical burns. It appears that these creatures died from a heart attack, likely due to whatever caused the burns," she replied, examining another monkey.

"Commander, didn't you say there was a procedure to follow to eject the data module?" Jorge asked, catching on. She nodded sharply.

"The defense system is designed to electromagnetically lock down the module to prevent unauthorized access," Shepard mused. "If one of these monkeys tried to yank it, and the probe was damaged… the system shorts, dumps all remaining power to the damaged defense system, which arcs to the monkeys. Liara, any of these monkeys have the data module?"

"No, Shepard."

"The one that yanked it must have survived," Jorge noted.

"Probably grounded by the probe," Tali offered as she joined them.

"And then he spooks and runs off with his prize," Shepard finished. "Great."

"Or could be the Geth got here first," he offered. She shook her head.

"Then we'd be seeing Geth bodies instead of monkeys. Unless the managed to get here after the monkeys. But I doubt that. No, we need to find that monkey. Joker, you get all this?"

_Of course._ _Cameras are picking up a four concentrations of monkeys in the vicinity. I'll mark them on the map._

"Thanks Joker. Alright people, back in the Mako. We've got monkeys to hunt."

-{()}-

"Never thought I'd be doing this," Jorge remarked casually. He hefted one of the little primates with one arm, searching for any sign of the data module. It yowled in protest at its treatment.

"Searching monkeys for a lost data module?" Tali asked, grabbing a monkey of her own to search.

"That's something they don't tell you about in the recruitment vids," Shepard mused, letting her own critter go. "See the galaxy, defend humanity from foreign threats… search monkeys for classified information?"

"I would imagine that mentioning such things would not encourage people to join the Alliance," Liara commented. Shepard giggled over the comm.

"I can just imagine it now; 'The monkeys have classified Alliance intel? Wait, we get it back by shaking them?' SETA would have a field day!" The other two girls shared a short laugh at the comment. Jorge just grinned and picked up another monkey.

As strange as the task was, it was relatively easy, at least compared to what it could have been. The monkeys were utterly unafraid of their more evolved cousins, with even Jorge provoking almost no response upon approaching them. It allowed the group to search the colonies, no more than ten to twenty individuals, relatively quickly. They had already searched one colony, after stopping to mark a large deposit of gold.

"Is that all of them?" Shepard asked, dropping her monkey unceremoniously on the ground. It was quick to get out of arms reach, a new fear upon its mind.

"Should be, Commander," Jorge replied. His helmet showed all the monkeys in red- he had been tagging them in his HUD as they had been picked up for this very reason.

"On to the next, then," Shepard sighed, heading to the Mako.

-{()}-

The next colony was located near the base of a few lone mountains, at the foot of an exploratory mine. The cylindrical entrance was elevated into the air at the angle the drills had originally used, and a small foot ramp allowed access to the otherwise inaccessible tube. The monkeys seemed to have made their home at the bottom of the ramp, among a number of large boulders. Forced to park a short distance away, the team resumed their search.

The third monkey that Jorge searched ran from him the moment he let it go. With surprising speed the creature climbed the ramp and disappeared into the mineshaft.

_Damn,_ he thought to himself. "Commander?"

"Yes?"

"The monkey I just searched went into the mine."

He couldn't see her face due to her helmet, but he could imagine what her expressions were. Incomprehension for half a second, then a weary comprehension would replace it as she too realized what that meant.

"Great, just great," she replied in a tired tone, rubbing her faceplate with her hand.

"What?" Liara asked, concerned.

"Just saw a monkey go into the mine," Jorge told her, lifting his forth monkey to search. A groan came from Tali as she let her own squirming monkey go.

"Which means we have to search the mine, right?" she asked.

"Yep," Shepard replied in a less-than-enthusiastic tone. "Are we done out here?"

"Yes Commander. No data module."

"Damn. Alright everybody, up the ramp. We've got a mine to search."

The mineshaft was at a shallow angle, and once at the top of the ramp, with the massive doors to the mine wide open, one could see all the way to the first room that had been hallowed out. Light came from the bottom of the shaft. One by one, the quartet followed Shepard down, Jorge bringing up the rear, all of them being careful not to slip in the algal ooze that had formed in a small stream running down the center of the shaft. It led to a small staging room, one with a number of lights, a few crates, a few monkeys that didn't react to their presence and one who did. That monkey bolted as soon as Jorge came into view, disappearing through another massive circular door that led further into the mine. Shepard gave an exasperated sigh and slumped her shoulders.

"I already searched that one, Commander," he offered.

"Well that's good news at least. Alright, check the ones we have here, then we'll head further in."

The monkeys in the room did not have the data module. The next cylindrical drill tunnel took them deeper into the mountain, ending in a natural cavern. Lights threw their pitiful glow in the important parts of the room, one littered with more containers and random rocks. Only with his enhanced eyesight was Jorge able to see into the darkest corners of the sealed cavern. Water covered the floor, ice cold and ankle deep in places, dripping from the rocky ceiling. It appeared that no sentient had been here in decades.

"Nice that the lights are working," he commented, proceeding to the first monkey wandering the cavern.

"Why are they working at all? This place is abandoned, right?" Tali asked, heading off in a separate direction.

"Lights aren't very valuable. It would cost more to take them than to leave them," Liara explained.

"But why are they _on_?"

"They are likely motion sensitive. I have used many of the same type of lights on digs. Motion sensors save power on remote sites."

"But where's the _power_ coming from then?"

"Solar panels," Jorge answered. He dropped the monkey he had looked over, tagging it on his HUD. "There were some at the entrance."

"Yes, that is the typical setup on the dig sites," Liara agreed.

At the end of the cavern, two more tunnel entrances yawned open, light spilling from their mouths. At their entrance, the team paused. Jorge looked to the Commander to decide what she wanted to do. She took a small object off a pocket around her waist, activated it, then placed it on a nearby crate. There was now a marker on his HUD, a beacon to show the way out.

"Alright, we don't know how far these tunnels go, so we go together. Left first," she said aloud. He followed the rest of the group, bringing up the rear as they headed down the shaft. At the bottom there was a small, well lit cave room, filled with crates and with no other exits. At least they did not have to search miles of tunnels and risk getting lost.

A single monkey, upon catching sight of Jorge's massive figure, let out a scream and bolted past the team. Shepard made an attempt to catch it but the agile little creature dodged her outstretched arms. It shot past Liara and Tali before they could react, gave Jorge a wide berth, and skittered up the shaft as fast as it could go. He made no attempt to catch it. It was red on his HUD.

"I think we already searched that one, Commander," he drawled. That got a chuckle from Shepard.

The monkeys down that branch did not have the data module either, so the squad made their way to the other passageway, which happened to also be a single room with no exits. The squad began their task once again.

"He dropped the data module!" Tali cried out. Indeed, the monkey she had searched was skittering off, and on the stone floor was a small brick.

"Great job, Tali!" Shepard congratulated, accepting the module from Tali. She gave it to Jorge, who slipped it into a compartment in the ubiquitous backpack he carried.

"Thank the Goddess that is over," Liara commented as they headed towards the central cavern.

"It wasn't that bad," Tali remarked.

"Better than people shooting at you," Jorge agreed. Liara shuddered. Ahead of them, just entering the main cavern, Jorge noticed Shepard freeze. She brought up her left fist in the signal for 'halt' and reached for the assault rifle on her back.

_Nothing's ever easy,_ he thought to himself. He swung the heavy Legacy from its one arm dangle to firing position at his right hip.

"What? What is it?" Liara whispered, her pistol unfolding. Tali was silent as her shotgun deployed.

"Geth. Far end of the cavern. We can use these crates for cover. Jorge, front and center, everyone else spread out."

The crates near them were a jumbled mess, enough to prevent a straight path and provide plenty of relatively durable cover. Jorge came to rest against some that had been stacked three high in the center of the field of fire, allowing him to stand. There was nowhere to retreat except down the shafts they had just searched; they would have to be careful. His eyes were on Shepard, awaiting permission to engage the enemy. He watched as she took out her sniper then peeked out of cover to line up a shot. His grip tightened as he prepared for combat.

Her finger tightened on the trigger, sending a sand grain downrange at a significant fraction of the speed of light. With the Commander now engaged, Jorge stepped from behind his cover and depressed the trigger, sending withering fire downrange.

His gun was no longer a typical Legacy. Between the work of Tali and Garrus, the gun had been greatly changed. The internal computer had been lobotomized. Most of the hardware of the gun had been gutted. No longer could the gun provide range, temperature, wind speed, or actively track a single target. It would never be able to collapse again. The complex algorithms and hardware that damped recoil had been significantly altered, to the point where most of them were gone. In the opinion of almost every Alliance member of the crew of the Normandy, the gun was next to useless.

It could do only one thing, but it could do that one thing magnificently. It could fire. It would fire without protest or complaint as long as the trigger was pressed down. No hacking program could take hold in the simplified computer that ignored the heat state of the gun. It would continue to throw rounds downrange until the end of time or until it melted into a puddle of slag, whichever came first. Which, to Jorge, was exactly what a gun was supposed to do. Perfect.

The sudden hail of fire took the Geth by surprise, but being machines, they adapted very quickly. With so many crates littered throughout the cavern there was more than adequate cover, preventing many of his shots from connecting with their targets. With his target rich environment gone, Jorge focused on suppressive fire, letting off bursts to keep them in cover. Focusing his attention on the right side of the cavern, he was unable to see the left, though he heard Tali's shotgun as she attempted to take the constructs down. Rounds impacted his shields as the Geth focused fire on him. Beside him, he heard the report of Shepard's sniper again, and saw a white assault trooper fall. Another geth trooper fell to his gun as it attempted to advance. His suit blared a warning at him as his shields fell. Jorge tightened his stance and shifted his shoulders, presenting his up armored side to the enemy as he continued suppressive fire.

A blue splotch in the corner of his eye caught his attention. A geth trooper flailed in midair as it floated past the edge of his vision. Without hesitation he turned his gun on it, riddling it with bullets without even thinking. So, the Doctor could be useful in combat after all. A warning flared besides his shield indicator. His gun was overheating.

He stepped back behind the cover, taking advantage of the brief respite to allow his shields to recharge. With all the heat management software and hardware gutted, he could fire forever, but that would melt the gun. Tali had whipped up a small heat sensor and attached it to the gun, while he had written a simple program to interpret the signals from the small wireless device. Together, the two of them provided a warning system for when his gun was getting too hot and should be allowed to cool. Fully ignorable, in a pinch, but Tali, Garrus, Alenko and Williams had all warned him that doing so risked the destruction of his gun, possibly violently if he pushed it too far. But, at least it was ignorable, at his own peril.

A green light signaled that the gun was cool again. He stepped around the corner, firing at the largest clumping of dots on his motion tracker, forcing the geth back to cover. One wasn't fast enough and received his wrath, becoming little more than scrap metal in seconds.

From the edge of his vision, a blue-black mass appeared. Spartan time kicked in as he attempted to identify what it was. Jorge therefore saw with remarkable clarity the black hole that formed practically on top of a group of four geth that were in cover. Gravitational eddies caught them, suspending all four helplessly in midair.

_Impressive. She could be deadly if she put her mind to it,_ he thought as he riddled the helpless geth.

It was a coordinated move. In one moment every geth rose from cover and focused fire on Jorge. The remaining platforms numbered no more than six, but they put forth enough fire to collapse his shields, at the cost of devastating their remaining numbers. But Jorge didn't notice his teammates taking them down.

He was more concerned with the two Geth Destroyers that had entered the fray.

Standing eight feet tall, they were massive and heavily armored compared to their smaller bretheren, with yellow markings across their metallic bodies. They announced their presence to Jorge by firing red blasts from their shotgun. Carnage, he knew; shotguns could be overcharged to fire a blast that would do much larger amounts of damage. Spartan time kicked in as he attempted to dodge the charged particles. But even a Spartan can only move so fast. The first hit his chest, knocking him off balance just as the second hit. If he had been an ordinary human, he would have been on the ground. As it was, he stumbled, but easily regained his balance before taking a split second to assess the damage. It was minimal, a new series of scratches and pits on the titanium alloy that made up his chest plate and left shoulder guard.

In the next second he depressed the trigger once again. There was barely any need to aim; both the large geth were running towards him. He was fortunate; due to the massive amount of crates that were in the area, only the front machine could possibly make it to him. The heavy machine gun tore through its shields, but before it could do more than that the first destroyer had reached him. The other, forced to slow down due to the cover, took a shotgun blast from Tali and decided that she was a worthy target. And then it was upon him.

For the first time since fighting the Covenant, Jorge looked up to the face of his enemy.

As the destroyer on Eden Prime had done to Williams, the machine attempted to melee Jorge, bringing a massive elbow joint down at his helmet. Spartan time kicked in as Jorge blurred back, attempting to create space to bring his gun to bear at point-blank. The elbow hit nothing but air. Unfortunately, Geth are machines. They receive data instantaneously, and could analyze and plan in milliseconds. One hand grabbed the barrel of the Legacy, using the leverage to keep the gun away from it while it brought the shotgun around. Jorge was just as fast, bringing his left hand up to grab the end of the shotgun- at point blank, it would have enough power to penetrate his more exposed parts, like his head. For an instant, hydraulics and muscle strained.

He was not strong enough to one-handedly bring his gun to bear, not with the destroyer holding the barrel. Jorge knew this. He also knew that, as strong, as fast as this geth was, he was better. And he guessed that hand-to-hand combat was not something the synthetic Geth were experts at.

In the next instant, Jorge released his machine gun and struck. His fist hit the armored flashlight head, snapping it back and destroying the sensitive camera housed within. Before the destroyer could react or attempt to counter, he grabbed it. Using the leverage on the shotgun and his new hold, he twisted and threw the destroyer to the ground. Any attempt by his enemy to get up was silenced as Jorge's right fist smashed down on its chest, punching through the armored carapace and continuing to the delicate processors beneath. The chest of the geth sparked as he withdrew his hand. A binary death rattle emanated from the machine one final time as Jorge stood to his full height.

All told, the fight between the destroyer and Jorge had taken place between breaths. As he stood he took stock of the situation.

All the normal troopers were down. Tali was on the ground, her omni lit, in the process of scrambling away from a geth destroyer that was clutching a malfunctioning shotgun. Liara was behind her, surrounded by a blue corona that indicated she was using biotics. Shepard was switching to her shotgun, her eyes fixed on Tali on the ground.

Time resumed.

Liara finished the move, sending a sphere of blue at the destroyer as Tali scrambled to her feet. It hit square on, sending the destroyer reeling backwards, flailing as its programming attempted to keep its body upright. It stumbled back, away from Tali, and right to Jorge.

He saw his chance. The Doctor had conveniently given Jorge the perfect setup. Fast as lightning, he clamped his arms around the destroyer as tight as he could. Off balance, the destroyer suddenly found its arms pinned harmlessly to its side, shotgun clamped in an iron grip across its chest, useless. Uttering a guttural binary string, it violently shook itself, attempting to shake the new obstruction off.

Behind his helmet, Jorge grinned as he planted himself. It was like wrestling with his fellow Spartans again, except this geth was nowhere near as cunning as his family. It would not figure out the move to get it out of the bear hug before it was dead. With that thought in mind, he began to squeeze.

The geth tried to shake itself again, but found that its movement was too restricted to do much. It tried to step forward, but found that it could not- its weight was too far back, supported by Jorge now, for the destroyer to exert any meaningful force. Metal creaked as Jorge continued to tighten his grip. His arms were clutching the shotgun around the chest of the geth, and now the mostly ceramic and plastic weapon began to distort, yielding to the harder metal.

The arms were the first to give way, their lighter ceramics fracturing under the force. Then it was time for the chest, the twenty millimeters of protective ceramic and metal no match for the force that Jorge, in his MJOLNIR power armor, was exerting. It began to deform, like a child squeezing an aluminum can.

The geth let out a distorted binary string and thrashed its head about, but it was too late. Like a dam breaking, the protective layer gave way and Jorge's hands began compressing microprocessors rather than armor. Sickening metallic crunches were the only sound, sparks the only sight as Jorge crushed his enemy to death.

He continued to squeeze for several seconds after he felt the platform go limp, making certain that it was dead. Relaxing his grip, Jorge let the hulk fall to the ground, a clear outline of his Grenadier chest plate in the back of the larger geth. In front of him, Liara, Tali, and Shepard stared from behind their masks. He checked the motion tracker. Negative contacts. Jorge nonchalantly headed over to pick up his gun, dangling it one armed as he usually did at rest.

"Good work, Jorge," Shepard said, stowing her shotgun.

"It's what I'm here for, ma'am."

Tali and Liara continued to stare.

-{()}-

"What is it?"

"It appears to be a Prothean artifact, Shepard. One that I have never heard of before," Liara whispered in awe.

Jorge merely grunted his opinion on the matter. A concrete circle in the middle of nowhere with some sort of orb in the center held little interest for him.

"How is that possible, Liara?"

"This world is uninhabited. Even with the exploratory mine, there is little here to attract a detailed survey. It is likely only due to our extensive orbital scans that Joker conducted looking for the probe that we even picked it up. Oh, if only I could stay a while…"

"It's not like it's going anywhere," Tali voiced, examining the sphere in the center. "Jorge, could you look at this?"

He obediently headed for the orb, leaving Shepard to reassure the Doctor that she would have plenty of opportunity in the future to study the artifact.

"What is it?" he asked, setting his gun down.

"This orb… there's something weird here," was all she could put to words.

Jorge took a long hard look at the orb. The material seemed like chrome, very shiny and reflective. He could see the green mountains behind him, the blue sky with the sun shining down reflected from the top… wait a minute…

"You mean like how we don't have reflections?" he asked. She nodded.

"Or the structure," she continued for him.

"Or the clouds," he finished. If he could take his helmet off, he would be scratching his head in bewilderment. Tali activated her omni in the silence that followed.

"I don't understand. My tool isn't reading anything. It can see the structure, but not the artifact. It's like it's not even there," Tali whispered. Shepard and Liara walked up to examine the artifact closer as well.

"Doctor T'Soni, have you seen anything like this before?" Jorge asked.

"No, I have not. Nor have I ever heard of any other artifacts that are similar."

"What is it made of?" Shepard asked to no one in particular. Her hand reached for the artifact before anyone could stop her.

It _rippled_ as she touched the surface, like water, but kept its shape.

"Don't touch it Shepard!" Liara said forcefully, eyes narrowed behind her helmet. Shepard stumbled back, but not from the reproach. Tali and Jorge took careful steps backwards as well.

It was rising slowly, silently into the air. It stopped high enough off the ground that the team could walk under it, though Jorge would have to duck a fair amount. Nothing else happened.

"Alright, no more touching," Shepard said, clasping her hands behind her back. Jorge chuckled as he saw the Doctor cast a withering glare at her.

"There's something here!" Tali called from underneath the artifact. She instantly had everyone's attention.

"Some sort of slot," she clarified.

"What, like an OSD slot?" Jorge asked.

"No, it's oddly shaped. More like a key," Tali replied. Shepard and Liara joined her under the sphere.

"I do not know of anything that would fit that shape. It bears some resemblance to the ports on the storage devices I have worked with. Perhaps it is a storage device itself. I will have to send away to the university to requisition one of the working devices we have and begin…"

"Slow down, Liara. You can't stay, we've got to catch Saren," Shepard cut in. Liara looked crestfallen.

"...Of course, Shepard. I am sorry, I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me."

"Don't worry, Liara. After we catch Saren you can come back and study this thing till your heart's content, alright? I promise."

As the team headed back to the Mako, Jorge mentally made note to never mess with Prothean artifacts. Beacons that transferred nightmares, now spheres that ignored the laws of physics… there was no telling what they would do. Besides, he was a soldier, not an archeologist.

-{()}-

Alright, I apologize for the wait, I have been lazy. I have no excuse, seeing as I have plenty of time on my hands. Anyways…

The Geth Destroyers in the chapter are slightly modified from cannon. According to the wiki, Destroyers are 11ft tall. However, I want them to be like a mini-boss, something on par with Jorge in terms of weight and raw power, and to that end the destroyers here are approximately 8 ft (2.4m) tall and weigh approximately ¾ of an English ton. 8 inches taller than Jorge, and they weigh the same of him if he looses the pack. And since they are machines, they are of relatively comparable strength and speed as well, though Jorge is still stronger and faster. A good matchup, in other words, all other things being equal. But then, nothing is really equal to Jorge except for another Spartan.

I forgot to mention some things at the end of the last chapter. Yes, I know part of it is a standard info dump. I purposefully included it because, as a crossover, I cannot assume that my readers know the lore of both. So I added it to give a little more context to Jorge's background for whoever out there reading this doesn't know much about Halo.

One last thing- I read every review I get, even if I don't respond to it. If you really have a burning question, put it there and check the Q&A chapter next update. Either that or PM me, I'll be happy to answer questions, so long as it doesn't give too much away.

Thank you for reading.


	17. Chapter 15

Jorge felt a subtle thump, even through his armored boots, as the _Normandy_ was clamped into the docking berth. The next mission was about to start. Grabbing his helmet and gun, he made his way to the cargo elevator. It was nice not to have to pack away his bed for once.

Feros. An abandoned Prothean planet, one with a significant amount of surviving architecture. Recently colonized by a small group of determined individuals and an archaeological/scientific team from mega-corporation ExoGeni. Also the location of the most recent Geth sightings, and their one current lead on Saren. Fortunately, the crumbling architecture had been upgraded to an extent for cargo ships, allowing the _Normandy_ to dock planet-side rather than send the ground team down via the Mako or shuttle. _All the better to be closer to the action._

Jorge arrived on the command deck just in time to fall in behind Shepard and the ground team as they headed for the airlock. With Shepard drawing fire, Lieutenant Alenko, Garrus and Tali could dish out hard-hitting tech attacks against the mechanical Geth. Not very powerful in terms of weapons, nor the most durable, but against the Geth this team would likely be death incarnate. Shepard turned around in front of the decontamination chamber, motioning the team inside.

"Stay sharp," Shepard told Jorge. "Keep Joker out of trouble."

Joker let out a haughty laugh. "Yea right, Commander. Soooo much trouble I could get into, locked into the dock like this."

Jorge just smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

With a nod, Shepard stepped into the decontamination chamber with the rest of the team.

_Logged: the commanding officer is ashore. XO Pressly has the deck._

"I mean, seriously, what can I do? At least in orbit I can have a little fun with my baby," Joker griped dramatically.

"What, like last time? You remember what happened last time," Jorge replied with a grin.

"Yea yea yea, try one more maneuver without permission and I get busted in rank. I mean, nevermind that we still don't know the upper range of this baby's limits, or that there was LITERALLY _nothing else_ I could have been doing…"

Jorge chuckled as he put a hand on the pilot's chair.

"You were stressing the bulkheads pretty hard last time. Pressly-"

Gunfire filtered through the team comm. Joker looked surprised. Jorge instantly lost his smile, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Man, that's gotta be a new record. What, not even a minute out the airlock and they're already getting shot at?"

"Commander," Jorge spoke through the comm. "Need some backup?"

_+Negative, we can handle this. Stick with the ship.+_

"Confirmed," Jorge replied. He fought the impulse to exit the ship and set up a perimeter. The ship was safe enough.

The minutes dragged on, the mood somber in the cockpit. Even Joker dared not break it, instead fiddling with console in front of him. Jorge stood behind him, his expression fierce, arms crossed as he was forced to listen to the sounds of combat through the comm. It did not last long. The tech-heavy squad ripped through the Geth with little trouble, and soon enough they were at the colony site. No more than a few minutes afterwards, Shepard and her team had cleared out the Geth landing zone near the colony, preventing further attacks. And all Jorge could do was stand behind Joker, listening through the comm and watching the tactical display, offering what advice he could. He was mostly silent- even young Tali had seen heavy combat by now, and knew how to handle the Geth. With the LZ cleared, Jorge expected a lull in the fighting before Shepard headed towards Exo-Geni headquarters, the current base for the Geth. He was not expecting the call.

+_Jorge, get to my position, double time. Joker, get the rest of the team suited for combat. And drop the Mako at these coordinates._+

"Whoa. You got that, big guy?"

Jorge leaned forward to hit transmit. "Confirmed. On my way, Commander." He fitted his helmet and grabbed his gun, heading for the airlock.

"Ground team, Shepard says suit up for…"

Joker's last words were cut off as the airlock door slid shut, trapping Jorge in the decontamination chamber between the inner and outer hull. He heard the hiss of seals behind him, before the outer door slid upwards.

_Logged: Operations Chief Kadar is ashore,_ the computer intoned. He set off at a fast jog, a pace that, because of his massive size and stride, was not far behind a world-record sprint. The air behind him churned as the _Normandy_ left her berth.

The concrete pathway was marred by white splatters and numerous geth bodies, and one unfortunate colonist. He ignored them all as he ascended a crumbling stairwell, also splattered with the white 'blood' of the Geth. Two right turns and he slowed his stride as he entered the colony; a pair of makeshift barriers, simple pieces of metal, with armed colonists watching his every move. They remained calm as he jogged past, barely even affording him a second glance. They were alert for the Geth; they must have been under significant attack for them to barely acknowledge him.

Ahead of him was a grounded freighter. The modular construction offered good quarters to sleep in, and a good defense should the colonists need to pull back. Bearing left, he jogged past a salarian shopkeeper and numerous colonists- all were occupied with some task or other. Continuing around, he finally caught sight of Shepard and her squad, conversing with a pair of civilians. One was a heavily armed woman, who eyed him with wary disdain. The other, with whom Shepard was talking, was an older man with a strained look to his features. He dropped the Legacy to his left side as he came to attention and saluted in front of Shepard. She returned the salute before turning back to the man.

"Fai Dan, this is Operations Chief Kadar. Op Chief, Fai Dan, leader of this colony. We need to strike the source of these attacks, and from what you've told me that means heading across the skyway to Exo-Geni headquarters, correct?"

"Yes, Commander. The skyway should lead you straight there," Fai Dan replied. He eyed Jorge with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

"Good. Now, the squad and I are going to fight our way to Exo-Geni headquarters and get rid of these bastards. Op Chief, you are to defend these people at all costs. Same with the rest of the squad as soon as they get suited up, you are in command here. Confirm?"

"Yes Commander."

"Good. Let's move."

As Shepard and the squad headed up the stairs, Jorge examined the position he was tasked with defending. Direct sight was cut off by barriers, both ancient concrete and metal shields. Here, at the corner, was a choke point, a small area only accessible by the concrete door to a stairwell landing. Poking his head into the stairwell, he saw that rubble and iron bars prevented access to all except another door one floor up.

"Is this the only entrance?" he asked Fai Dan.

"With your ship docked, yes. The geth can't drop troopers behind us when your ship is in the bay."

"Right." With that, Jorge gently dropped his Legacy to the ground and leaned against the doorway, the upper entrance in sight.

"With the Alliance here, we can concentrate on getting the colony operational again," Fai Dan said aloud, with a strained relief evident in his voice.

"Till they leave," his companion sniffed with disdain.

"Arcelia!" he reprimanded. She looked back at the man without a trace of regret.

"Well," he sighed, "I need to talk to Macha about the water situation. Arcelia, you go talk to Davin, see what we can do about getting more food."

"What, and leave HIM alone here?"

"There are plenty of other people here that can watch this entrance. Like Michael here. Go, Arcelia, he can handle things here," Fai Dan told her.

The woman, Arcelia, headed off grumbling, with Fai Dan behind her. Glancing around, he found that, in the confined entrance he now guarded, there was only him and one colonist, the one identified as Michael. He was young, likely not even twenty yet, with a Caucasian complexion and dirty blonde hair. He handled his assault rifle awkwardly- likely pressed into desperate action with minimal instruction on how to handle a gun. He looked towards the massive behemoth that was Jorge nervously.

"Don't worry," Jorge tried to reassure him. "They'll have to go through me first."

The young man did not seem very reassured.

Minutes passed as Jorge stood guard by the one entrance to the colony. Behind him he heard groans from injured colonists, low conversations that even his enhanced hearing couldn't make out in the distance. From the radio, he heard when Joker dropped off the Mako, when Shepard and her team headed down the Skyway. He was simply there, watching up the stairs at the other doorway for signs of the Geth, watching his motion tracker for unidentified contacts.

They did not disappoint. His motion tracker picked up unidentified movement at twenty meters out, though not with enough resolution for him to tell how many. Jorge picked up his gun, readying it in case it was indeed Geth, as opposed to lost colonists. The soft clacking of metal on stone quickly put to rest any doubts.

"Michael, right?" he asked, turning to the man. He nodded nervously, on edge from Jorge's actions.

"You might want to get Fai Dan and Arcelia. The geth are attacking again," Jorge said calmly. The man stood stock still for a second before dashing off, hollering at the top of his lungs that the Geth were attacking again.

Jorge retreated a few steps to a concrete block outcropping behind him. The block was taller than he was and flush with the wall on the left side of the doorway- it would allow him to fire the gun from his right hip with minimal exposure. Concealing himself completely behind the block, he adjusted his motion tracker to a range of ten meters, and raised his right arm to halt the colonial reinforcements that were rushing in behind him. They would not be needed until his trap was sprung.

He guessed that the chatter and noise from the colonists alerted the Geth, for the dots on his tracker stopped dead and disappeared. Silence fell upon the defenders behind Jorge, his upraised arm commanding them not to rush around the corner and attack. He switched off the external outputs on his helmet and activated his radio.

"Joker, status."

+_Lining up for the docking bay now, team will be ready in five._+

Thoughts ran through his head, lightning fast. The Geth had appeared to come from the same LZ that Shepard had cleared out earlier, likely meaning another dropship had taken up post. Normally this wouldn't concern him, but the Geth were robots. They could fold down and pack in with minimal wasted space. Once one platform was disabled, the runtimes could simply activate another. The best way to eliminate the threat was to eliminate the source, the dropship. He doubted he would be able to with the handheld weaponry he carried, but the _Normandy_ could easily take it out.

Motion reappeared on his tracker. The Geth in the stairwell were moving, slowly. From their relative motion and distance, it appeared that they had yet to reach the landing for the level he was on. He still had some time.

"Belay that. They appear to be using the same el-ze as before. I need you to take out the dropship."

+_Destroy the Geth dropship, check. By then the rest of the team should be ready._+

"That's the plan," Jorge confirmed. Several Geth had reached the stairwell landing by now, but had not yet gotten to the door. They were being slow and cautious, no doubt suspecting it for the trap that it was. Unfortunately for them, as the lone entrance to the colony from that direction, the platforms had no choice but to continue forward. Jorge deactivated his radio and reactivated the external speakers. Behind him, he heard hushed whispers. Before him, the clicking of metal on stone. His eyes were fixed on the motion tracker, watching the closest blip. Closer….

Closer…

The first geth got to about three meters. The doorway to the stairwell. The chokepoint. There were four geth behind it on the stairwell landing, another three headed down the stairs. Time to strike.

"NOW!" he shouted. Dropping his upraised hand to the trigger, Jorge swung around his cover and unleashed hell.

The geth on the landing didn't stand a chance, much less the one caught in the doorway. At this range, Jorge couldn't have missed if he tried. The sheer power and fire rate of the Legacy, combined with the near point-blank range, collapsed the first geth's shields in under a second, well before any significant damage could be done to Jorge. With the armor piercing mod installed on the gun, the next bullets tore through the lightly armored torso of the first platform and continued on to the shields of the geth behind it, weakening them in addition to shredding the first platform. The landing was straight and narrow, the targets all lined up with no cover behind. It was a slaughter, if such words could be applied to synthetics.

"PROTECT THE HEART OF THE COLONY!" he heard Fai Dan shout. His motion tracker went wild from all the blips rushing behind him, taking up cover and firing on the entranceway. Jorge stepped around his cover, firing in bursts to keep the platforms that were on the stairs from coming around the pillar at the corner on the landing. One tried, methodically stepping around the corner and opening fire on Jorge. The combined fire from the colonists and his machine gun rendered that platform junk in moments. The other leaned out from behind cover to fire occasionally, but return and suppressive fire kept it bunkered down. The attack had been stalled. For now.

Jorge retreated backwards carefully, squeezing the trigger when he saw movement. Retreating behind the pillar, he looked down to see the determined face of Fai Dan. One more burst and Jorge pulled himself behind cover, letting his gun cool- the burst firing had kept it from overheating, but it had still reached near three quarters of the heat sink capacity. With a nod to Fai Dan, he activated his radio and the external speakers, allowing the leader of the colony to listen in.

"Joker, status."

+_Closing now, ETA thirty seconds if the computer can get a lock. Five minutes after that for docking._+

"Let me know when you've destroyed the dropship," Jorge told him, shutting off the link. Beside him, Fai Dan was shaking his head. A burst of gunfire sounded.

"It won't be enough. They'll come back, they always come back. And what about the Geth that have already been dropped?"

"We take care of them," Jorge told him confidently.

"DESTROYER!" came a cry from Arcelia, currently fighting behind one of the metal barriers. Metal footsteps, at a running pace, gave truth to her words. Without hesitation, Jorge swung around cover again and opened fire.

The destroyer was indeed running full tilt, likely attempting to get through the doorway and wreak havoc among the barricades with its superior protection and strength. But the moment Jorge swung around and opened fire, that directive must have changed. It skidded into cover against the doorway with a cringe-inducing squeal of stone on metal, safe from the withering fire of the machine gun.

_They're learning fast._

"Fai Dan, in the bottom left compartment you will find spare grenades. Take some," Jorge commanded. He felt from the slight forces applied that Fai Dan was following his order, felt the slight push as he closed the compartment.

"Good. Take two grenades and prime them."

"How?"

"Separate the detonator from the disk- the disk is the grenade. Don't worry, they go off with the detonation command, they aren't timed."

"Alright, done. What next?"

"Now, you are going to throw those grenades on the ground just inside the stairwell doorway. Far side, not near side, of the door. Then you're going to push the red button on the detonators. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

"Alright. On three. One… Two… Three!"

Jorge unleashed hell, full auto to keep the Geth in cover. Behind him, Fai Dan stepped around his massive form and threw one, then another, grenade. The disk-shaped explosives were meant to be thrown sidearm, but Fai Dan threw them overhand, like a baseball. Despite the less-than-ideal execution, both grenades landed just inside the stairwell and stuck to the ground.

Right next to the Destroyer. _Perfect_. Jorge waited for a quarter second…. then half a second….

"Detonate them!" he shouted, wondering why Fai Dan was taking so long. If he took too long…

The Destroyer had noticed the disks. It had apparently calculated that the best course of action was to advance, and swung around the corner, intent on getting into the colonial perimeter.

The grenades exploded, simultaneously. The Destroyer's shields, already shimmering from the fire Jorge and the other defenders were pouring into it, fell with an electrical snap. Bullets began to chew away at the armor, with the exception of Jorge's specialized armor piercing rounds, which were more than capable of penetrating. Within moments, four armor piercing bullets had wrecked several processors and a primary bus within the heart of the metal behemoth. Another few seconds and dozens of rounds later, the Destroyer was quite definitely 'dead', its body riddled and dripping with white fluid. The carnage shot it had managed to unleash had been knocked skyward, doing nothing to help it.

_We need to clear them out, or they'll keep calling in reinforcements._ Jorge stepped back behind cover and turned to Fai Dan.

"Sir, could I borrow a pair of your defenders?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"The _Normandy_ is maneuvering to take out the dropship, but we need to take out the troopers they've already dropped."

"Can't you take care of that? With your soldiers?"

"My squadmates are on the _Normandy_. We need to hit them now, before they have a chance to fortify their position. I can take the lead, but I would like some help," Jorge explained. Fai Dan nodded sagely, but his body language screamed that he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"Well… I guess that makes sense…" he said uncertainly. A moment more, and his expression hardened as he made the decision. "Xin! Michael! Follow the Operations Chief and assist him any way you can."

"Thanks. You two, follow me and shoot any Geth you see."

Jorge swung back out and advanced, bursting suppressive fire into the hallway. He kicked the destroyer shell out of the way, stepped on one of the 'dead' platforms that was still moving, and proceeded slowly down the landing without too much resistance. The real problem was his size- the doorway was only so wide, the landing only so large. There was a reason that shotguns, not heavy machine guns, were favored close-quarters weapons- maneuvering a 1.6 meter long gun in a narrow hallway was not exactly ideal. On the plus side, his massive bulk ensured that he was the only target for the Geth, though it also did ensure that Fai Dan's help couldn't do much. And he didn't exactly take a lot of damage, with his own fire discouraging the one platform that could hurt him from poking its flashlight head out. He approached slowly, up-armored side partially aimed towards the pillar, motioned for his support to stop, then began to swing wide so that he could bring his gun to bear up the stairs. In the distance, he heard a faint explosion.

The world shook, an earth-jarring vibration as the ruined building creaked and groaned. Only his inhuman reaction time allowed Jorge to catch his footing, the colonists behind him were thrown into the wall or to the ground. The world tilted, only a few degrees but that in and of itself was a terrifying thought when one was hundreds of stories up in a decaying skyscraper. In front of him, the Geth platform was jarred out of cover. Stumbling, the machine tried to bring its weapon to bear, but Jorge's armored backhand sent it sprawling into the wall with a visible dent in its carapace. He slammed a foot into its chest, crushing the platform, all while starting to fire at a pair of platforms up the stairwell.

+_Whao yea, baby!+_

One unfortunate white Assault platform fell down the stairs from the tremor and took the brunt of his fire, becoming nothing more than a sparking junk heap in a matter of moments. The other quickly took cover outside the doorway. "_Gazember_!" Jorge swore as another vibration, though much less powerful than the first, ran up his spine.

+_Dropship is down!+_ came Joker's enthusiastic voice. Jorge gritted his teeth. Vibrations still ran subtly through the building as overstressed pieces of the ancient skyscraper broke away, or at least that's what he hoped all the cracking sounds were. If the whole thing came down around him he was going to be less than happy.

The geth, uncaring that the building could come down around it, poked its head into the stairwell and fired a burst at him. He sent a retaliatory burst back with inhuman quickness, but it ducked behind cover before it could be destroyed. The world seemed to have righted itself… for now.

"Dammit Joker, what the hell was that!" he shouted into the com.

More red dots on his tracker indicated more Geth approaching. Jorge began advancing up the stairs, four at a time. Behind him, his colonist compatriots were struggling to their feet.

+_Uhhhh… I destroyed the dropship?+ _Joker replied uncertainly. Jorge ground his teeth together in anger as he pulled the trigger, aiming through the doorway.

The Legacy was a heavy squad support weapon. Lists of acceptable targets included lightly armored vehicles. At point blank range, the six-hundred rounds-per-minute, fully automatic, armor-piercing modded weapon was not something to be trifled with. Five Geth were lined up. In under eight seconds, all were sparking heaps on the ground. His com line was on the whole time.

+_I screwed up, didn't I?+_

"Think next time, dammit! You just dropped a _goddamn spaceship _onto a building over fifty_ thousand _years old! Full of _civilians_!"

+_Sorry! Sorry man… jeez…+_

"Right." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "So the dropship is down?"

+_Oh yea, it's down alright. Exploded into fireworks and damn near broke in half, it was awesome! Then it kinda fell on the drop zone. Sorry!+_

Jorge advanced into the upper corridor, ducking and contorting to keep a battle-ready position while fitting through the doorway. There were no further contacts on his motion tracker, but that just meant they weren't moving.

"Get back to the bay and drop the rest of the squad ASAP. I'm setting a waypoint for them to meet now. Jorge out."

Footsteps sounded behind him. Turning he saw the two colonists, Michael and Xin, in the doorway, looking slightly worse for wear but still ready for a fight.

"You two alright?" He received nods from both of them. "Good. Cover the elevator and this hallway while I clear the LZ." Nods again.

As the two colonists took up positions, Jorge began to cautiously head towards the LZ the geth had been using, mindful of the ambush opportunities. The corridor curved smoothly down and to the left, opening to a larger area. He poked his head around the corner cautiously. It must have been a larger room once, but now it was all rubble. Concrete chunks started at the bottom before mixing with charred, dark metal from the remains of the geth dropship. Light leaked in from some places, but it would take serious effort for anyone or anything to get through. He had to hand it to Joker...

Jorge's eyes widened in surprise. He jerked his head back violently, stepping backwards slightly to keep his balance. A quarter second later a rocket sped through the space his head had so recently vacated. He watched it go by, Spartan time gracing him with the sight of the deadly projectile in flight, watching as it detonated in slow motion against the wall in a small explosion, leaving a deep divot in the old structure. Reviewing his short look into the room, he found that there was a Juggernaut, partially crushed and lying on the floor but apparently still quite functional, almost out of sight around the corner.

Geth Juggernaut. Standing 2.75 meters tall and weighing over 1300 kilograms, Juggernauts were field command units. With upwards of a thousand runtimes, heavy armor, and pulse rifles modified to fire Distortion Rockets, these massive red behemoths were extremely dangerous opponents. They were typically deployed when command structure was needed, more than the hunter-killer groups that were organized by the Geth Destroyer platform type. With that in mind, Jorge wasn't too surprised to see one- organizing and possibly leading an assault on the colony after numerous failed attempts would be a natural progression. He was fortunate that it was mostly disabled during Joker's attack.

Jorge stuck his head around the corner again, this time prepared and actively looking for active geth. He saw the Juggernaut, crushed from the waist down, lying flat on its chest and aiming another rocket at him. One active geth, moving to attack him. Several inactive geth lay within the rubble, crushed by their own ship. Then he was forced to pull his head back as another rocket sailed into empty space. A timer went off in his head. He had, at most, 5 seconds or so.

Swinging around, he lit up the single geth trooper platform. He advanced quickly as he did so, intent on disarming the Juggernaut before it could fire another rocket at him- he thought his armor and shields would be able to take the rocket, its explosive yield was less than the M41 SSR rockets he was used to dealing with, but he didn't want to find out for sure. As the platform collapsed, he ran towards the Juggernaut and slammed his foot down onto the weapon that it was starting to bring to bear.

The rifle broke in half, useless now. It took a swipe at him with its hand, but he was already out of reach. For a few moments they regarded each other, machine versus killing machine. Jorge then leveled his gun and opened fire. The armor on the Juggernaut, was able to stop or deflect a fair amount of bullets even at point blank range. Jorge made a mental note of their toughness- without shields, and disabled, it had taken nearly three seconds of full auto at point blank range to fully 'die'. He frowned beneath his helmet, mentally reassessing his chances and strategies, as he headed back towards the stairwell.

"Report," he commanded. Then he kicked himself, mentally- these were civilians, not military personnel, no matter what weapons they carried.

"Nothing," came the reply from Xin.

"Good. The LZ's taken care of, no more Geth can land there."

"So they're gone?" Xin cut in. He frowned beneath his helmet as he looked at her blank expression.

"For now. They shouldn't be able to launch any more major attacks, but I'm not taking any chances. The rest of the ground team should be disembarking soon, then we can get a proper defense set up."

"Good."

His shields exploded to life, sparking the distinctive gossamer gold webbing as a projectile impacted them. Spartan time kicked in.

He heard the gun firing, dampened by his helmet's automatic systems, coming from behind and to his right at point blank range. How they had all missed the platform, he didn't know, but he let go of the trigger assembly and began to swing his hand with all his strength, twisting to add his core strength as well. Judging from the angle it was firing at, it was a typical geth platform. The level of retaliation he was using was probably excessive, but he was concerned for the colonists. His head twist brought his eyes into view of the target. His eyes widened.

Staring down the barrel of an old assault rifle, pointed right at his visor, was Michael.

His face was a mixture of anguish and pain, and it looked as though involuntary tears had formed in his eyes. This was a colonist he was supposed to protect. But even as he watched, graced with Spartan time, another round spat from the end of the barrel and slammed into his shields, just centimeters away from his faceplate. Faced with a split second decision, Jorge dampened his blow.

He hit Michael at the poor man's chest level and lifted him into the air, the massive backhand knocking the gun from his hands and the breath from his body. He flew into the wall, where a crack was heard as his head jarred against the ancient concrete, before falling to the ground, still.

"What was…"

Now Xin opened fire, spraying him with panicky rounds as she dodged through the doorway to the stairwell. He heard her scrabbling and falling down the stairs, before she ran back to the colony. From the doorway, he heard Fai Dan's voice.

"PROTECT THE COLONY FROM THE OUTSIDERS! KILL THEM ALL!"

Jorge looked to the body of Michael, then back down the stairs. He set his gun down.

"What the hell?"

-{()}-

Jorge heard a low moan behind him. Good, the man was up. Now he could get some answers.

He rolled his head, loosening his neck as he stood up, rolling his great shoulders to loosen them up. His helmet was off, next to his gun on the floor, letting him see the world once again with his own eyes. Idly, he grabbed the standard issue combat knife in his hand. He examined the blade edge with a critical eye as he headed towards the colonist.

After the… unexpected… betrayal of the colony, Jorge was cut off from support. The _Normandy_ had re-docked- not much the colonists could do to prevent it- but the colonists had apparently been foaming at the mouth to get at them. Unwilling to send the remaining team into a poor situation, he'd ordered them to stay inside the ship, where the colonists were unable to get at them.

Wrex had been a problem. He didn't like getting armored up then being forced to sit and do nothing while there was a battle to fight. Reminded Jorge a bit of Emile, except Emile acknowledged the chain of command whereas Wrex was technically a mercenary, and a krogan to boot. Wrex had submitted in the end- though Jorge was about to order the other members of the team to put him down if he hadn't. So they were safe on board the ship, bottled up but ready to move at a moments' notice.

Before he sent them anywhere, he wanted information. Why the colonists betrayed him, tried to kill him. He had a source- Michael, though injured and with a possible concussion, was alive. He had a prisoner. As such, he needed somewhere quiet, where he wouldn't get attacked while he was interrogating the man. After exploring further down the stairwell beyond the elevator, and fighting through several small patrols of Geth with an unconscious body to mind, he found a nice spot. A large room, formed from the collapse of a garage or other debris onto part of a highway- relatively recent as well, given that there was a damaged Grizzly in the rubble, but it was sealed through a noisy door with only one way in or out. Occupied by a pack of varren too, but the dog-like predators had easily fallen to his gun. Though one in particular had needed its head smashed in with his boot before it stopped attacking. The place was a very defensible position, he could hold here for quite a while if he needed. He would also have plenty of room to interrogate his prisoner.

Strung up from a piece of debris by his arms was Michael. His shirt was in tatters; Jorge had cut pieces of it off and used it as makeshift handcuffs. His feet were dangling nearly a foot off the ground, yet Jorge still tilted his head downwards to look into the young man's eyes. A nasty bruise was forming where Jorge's arm had contacted, having assessed it earlier Jorge knew he had broken at least two ribs and likely cracked a few more. Grabbing his head, firmly but gently, Jorge watched the captive's eyes as they tried to focus. One pupil was more dilated than the other, he likely had a concussion. He let go and Michael sagged with a sob of pain.

"Alright, here's how this is going to work," Jorge told him. "I'm going to ask a question, you are going to answer it. If you don't answer it, or if I think you're lying, I hurt you. Understand?"

His captive nodded, looking as though he was fighting back tears. His breathing was ragged.

"Good. What is your name?"

"Michael… Peterson."

"Age?"

"Twenty-two." Huh, he didn't look over twenty.

"And your role in the colony?"

"I… am a technician. I serviced… the vehicles and machinery."

_And when the geth hit, you were press-ganged._ "Tell me about the Geth attacks."

"They just… attacked."

_Lie_. Jorge had hoped the young man would see the futility of lying. _Stupid_. Jorge gave his injured ribs a gentle tap with the flat of the knife. While it was unlikely to have damaged anything further, Michael's eyes went wide with pain as he gasped.

"I told you not to lie to me. The Geth wouldn't attack without a reason. Or keep attacking without a damn good reason. So, care to re-phrase your answer?"

His eyes darted around, as though he was trying to make up his mind. Jorge sighed theatrically and brought the knife up for another tap on his injured ribs. His eyes widened.

"Wait!" he exclaimed desperately. Jorge paused, his gaze locked on Michael's eyes.

"The geth attacked because…" His face contorted in pain, though Jorge had not touched him. He gasped, panted for a few moments, then tried again.

"The geth were looking for… AAAAAHHHH!"

A scream of pure pain wretched itself from his lips, loud and sudden enough to startle Jorge into taking a step back. Jorge hadn't laid a finger or him. He could only stare in wonderment as Michael's dangling body contorted and thrashed as he screamed. His cries were cut short as one convulsion activated his abdominal muscles, contorting his ribs and causing his tear-streaming eyes to roll back into his head as he passed into unconsciousness.

Jorge looked at his knife hand, still outstretched but not extended enough to touch the colonist. Then he looked back at the unconscious colonist.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

-{()}-

Ack… alright, so that took a long time. And I'm not even finished with Feros yet. Shoot.

This is my first time writing creatively, and though I am not creatively blocked I was apathetic for the past few months. When you have nothing to do, you just… do nothing. It didn't help that I'm playing through ME concurrent to this, to keep the events all in line. I've played through ME original at least four times, completely.

This isn't the end. When I started this story I swore I would finish at least through ME1, and I intend to keep that promise to myself. However, it might take a while. While some of you might see this as a bad thing, it also presents an opportunity.

You see, I started _writing_ because I love _reading_. I browse the archives regularly, looking for good stories. When I saw there were only two stories with Jorge/ME crossover, and stories that clashed with my personal headcannon for how such a thing should go, I though, 'you know, I hope someone else writes a better story.' And I waited, and no story came. So I decided to write my own.

So I guess what I'm saying is, if you enjoy my story, consider writing your own. About anything. Send me a PM, I'd love to read it. And considering how long it's going to take me to finish ME1, if you have some ideas about continuing this story through ME2 and 3, do it! Write them!

As always, thank you for reading my humble story. The next chapter will be the second half of Feros, and will likely take me just as long as this chapter did.


	18. Chapter 16

+_Normandy to shore party, come in shore party._+

+_Repeat, Normandy to shore party, are you reading?_+

+_Normandy to shore party, please respond._+

Joker's repeated calls for Shepard's away team were annoying, but necessary. They did, after all, know generally where they were- ship's sensors placed them in the building identified to house Exo-Geni's headquarters. Unfortunately, the geth weren't making it easy on them. Communications had been jammed, preventing the ship from getting a good lock on their location and cutting all contact with the team for nearly an hour and a half now. In the meantime, Jorge was in charge of a situation involving conflicting orders and an undesirable tactical layout. Worst of all, his gut told him something was very wrong in this situation, and his attempt to interrogate the prisoner had left him with no answers, only more questions. Faced with the choice of engaging the colony he was ordered to protect or doing nothing, Jorge chose to do nothing. For now.

The jamming made it impossible to tell whether or not Shepard and her team were still alive, and as the appointed ranking officer on the ground the responsibility to make the decisions fell to him. If Shepard remained out of contact for much longer, he would have no choice but to assume that she had been captured or killed. Which meant that he would need to either write them off as KIA and continue with the mission, or organize a rescue party. Either course of action would mean the massacre of the colonists as he got the rest of the ground party off the Normandy, something he wasn't too keen on doing. Maybe if this had been an alien colony, but this was a human one; Jorge was more inclined to wait.

And so he sat, in his commandeered room, listening to a little jazz music from his personal library while he waited for a response from Shepard. He'd put the colonist, Michael, into the still partially functional Grizzly, keeping him sufficiently restrained and removing him from enemy fire in one action. As such, Jorge sat alone, back against the ruined Grizzly, machine gun by his side. Not a single creature or machine had ventured in to his little room since he had claimed it nearly an hour ago.

+_Normandy to Commander Shepard, c'mon Commander…_+

Joker's voice cut through the light jazz, reminding Jorge once again that soon, he would have to act. Shepard had a little over half an hour, and then he would be forced to subdue the colony in order to organize another attack on Exo-Geni headquarters to complete her mission. He had no doubt it would be a bloodbath. Wrex alone would tear through the colony on a warpath for being cooped up for so long. Without a reliable non-lethal way to take out the hostile colonists, they would be forced to shoot to kill.

But not yet. He had faith in Shepard's combat skills, in her resolve and her leadership. She was no Spartan, but she was a tough, quick woman. She was delayed, that was all. Not dead, not fatally wounded or captured. Merely having the fight of her life. She would make contact again soon, he was sure.

+_I repeat, Normandy to shore party, are you reading? Anyone there? Normandy to shore party, c'mon Commander, talk to me…+_

Another desperate plea. The last few had been getting closer and closer together. Joker was starting to get unprofessional. Maybe it was time…

+_This is shore party. Status, Joker?_+

For a single moment, it didn't register in his mind that Shepard had responded that time. Then a grin spread to his face as he cut the music in his helmet and began to stand.

+_Something's happened to the colonists- they're banging on the hull, trying to claw their way inside the ship- they're freaking out._+

"Commander, Kadar here. I successfully cut off all Geth support and destroyed their attacking forces, but the colonists turned on me and chased me out. I captured one, but he couldn't give me any answers. Commander, something is very wrong with these colonists," he reported.

+_I know. They're being controlled, by a creature called the Thorian. According to Exo-Geni reports, it makes its home under the colony and I'm guessing its mind controlled them to defend itself from the Geth._+

Jorge did a double take. If he'd been drinking, it would have been an epic spit-take. _MIND CONTROL?_ What… how… his mind struggled to grasp the concept. Mind control was impossible… well, mostly. You could theoretically hack neural implants and get them to send signals to the brain, but the very design of the implants made that very difficult to do and would only offer crude control at best. And these colonists wouldn't have had implants- few, if any, in this universe augmented themselves in such a way. So how in the _**HELL**_ was this possible?! And if it had taken the colonists… he had been among the colonists… No, no, this couldn't be possible.

"Commander, I must have misheard you. Did you say 'mind control'?" he asked through the comm.

+_You heard correct, Kadar. The colony has been controlled. Apparently, it releases spores into the air that slowly infect the person, bringing their will under its control. Don't worry, it apparently takes anywhere from days to weeks to get infected- we won't have to worry about it._+

Jorge let out a sigh of relief at that. Mind control… this universe was finding new and interesting ways to be very, very scary. First was the ancient beacon that picks people up and scrambles their brains, then ancient ruins that defy the laws of physics, now honest-to-goodness mind control… Jorge renewed his resolve never to touch, or even go near, anything he was unsure about. Hell, he needed to be careful around some things he was sure about.

+_We've destroyed the Geth command ship, so the colony should be safe now. Joker, hold down the fort over there. Kadar, we're going to be coming back soon. On our way out, we met a few colonists in a makeshift garage. No more than four. Do you think you can subdue them?_+

Jorge frowned. Non-lethal takedowns weren't exactly his forte. Still…

"Yes, ma'am."

+_Good. You have authorization to kill, but only as a last resort. I want to keep as many colonists alive as possible._+

"What about the rest of the colony, ma'am?" That was going to be the real problem.

+_We'll deal with that when we get there. Everyone good?_+

"Yes ma'am."

+_Aye aye, Commander._+

+_Good. Shore party out._+

The channel cut to static. It was good to hear Shepard was alive, better to hear she had a plan. Giving a small grunt, he stretched his arms out, relishing the feeling after sitting still for the better part of an hour, before checking the remains of the Grizzly. The hatch was sealed with a command code from his omni, which he double checked. Satisfied the colonist would be safe inside from all but the most determined foes, Jorge picked up the Legacy and headed for the elevator that would lead him to the garage.

-{()}-

The garage filled with the sound of stone on stone as the elevator doors retracted. Behind a metal barricade, two male human colonists and one female began to turn to look at it. The Thorian had not sent anyone to aid them- they, and it's thralls, were all that were to be here.

They never finished their turn, not one of the four. Despite being 7'4'' and just over two thousand pounds, Jorge, like all Spartan-II's, could move with an inhuman quickness. Leaving his gun set on the floor of the elevator for now, Jorge sprinted out of the doors as soon as he was able and crossed the short distance to the exposed colonists in the blink of an eye. In the next he had all three pinned against the barrier, his exceptional reach allowing him to pin the three relatively average-sized humans all at once. With their guns either dropped or pinned between them and the barrier, Jorge got to work on eliminating the hostile colonists, one by one.

The human body can be incredibly strong. There had been recorded instances of marines surviving with multiple gunshot wounds, even some who had survived a pistol round to the head at point blank range. Despite this strength, it can also be incredibly fragile; it only takes a small amount of force applied to a joint in the wrong direction to get a truly painful experience. As a Spartan, Jorge learned a great deal about the strengths and weaknesses of the human body, and had applied it many times during his career.

It is a simple concept- cut off the head, and the body dies. In this case, cut off the blood supply to the brain, and the person will be rendered unconscious in seconds- or dead, if held for too long. While he was simply too large, even without his armor, to be able to fit his arm around the colonist's necks for a proper chokehold, Jorge's strength and size were such that he was more than capable of squeezing the jugular with a single hand. With the colonists pinned, it was a simple matter to render them all unconscious.

Still, he reflected as he examined his handiwork, he had gotten lucky that all three had been grouped together. Otherwise, it would have turned out far messier- and likely fatal, either to him or the colonists. But he'd gotten luck-… what?

Jorge had noted the presence of what appeared to be fairly large rocks when he had exited the elevator. He had thought it was a sort of anti-vehicle setup and paid it no mind. That was, he had paid it no mind until one of the "rocks" near him began to unfold… no, to stand.

It looked like a corpse risen from the grave. The skin was an ashen grey, pulled taunt against the bones underneath where there wasn't any muscle. It was accented in places by black, almost diseased looking skin. But the face… the lips had retreated beyond their ability to cover the teeth, resulting in an eternal bony grin, one only made more unsettling by the lack of eyes- where there should have been eyes, or something, anything at all, there was only the black, diseased skin. Initially, Jorge thought the creature must have been a human- one of the colonists.

Slowly, the head turned to face him. It then began shambling towards him- he was reminded of the husks on Eden Prime.

"Stay back!" Jorge warned, putting himself in a ready stance. He doubted it would do anything- this creature looked just as mindless as the husks. On the other hand, it could have been a colonist.

The creature continued its shambling run at him. Unwilling to meet the creature- former colonist?- on its own terms, Jorge lashed out before it could ready an attack of its own. He wrapped his left hand around the colonists –creatures?- throat and squeezed the jugular region.

It reacted by throwing up all over his arm and clawing at him.

_Disgusting_, was his first thought. But he did not release his hold. Not until he saw smoke beginning to rise from where the liquid gunk covered his armor and underlayer. He dropped the creature like it was on fire and sent it flying with a massive kick as he shook as much of the gunk off his left arm as he could.

_Acid. That's not good_.

The paint on his armor was dissolving, leaving the metal underneath exposed. Some parts were already lightly pitted, and his underlayer was marred by tiny pits as well. Not good, he didn't want to get hit with anything like that again.

A moan snapped Jorge out of his examination. The colonist-creature?- who he had kicked with enough force to shatter ribs and send flying across the room and into a section of the fake rocks, was getting up. Right then, Jorge decided that if it had ever been human, it wasn't anymore. In its chest was the deep impression of a size twenty-four boot. And it got up. With a low moan, the 'rocks' around it also unfolded to their full height. All turned to stare at Jorge.

He ran back to the elevator as the creatures , even the one he had kicked, began their shambling run towards him. He came out with his machine gun blazing. Hypersonic, armor piercing sand grains tore downrange, hitting the creatures full force- and tore straight through as if they weren't even there, doing minimal damage. Beyond a growing set of small holes that Jorge could see in the creatures, nothing changed. They continued to charge with barely a stagger to their step.

_Shit_.

-{()}-

"That thing was… uncanny, Commander."

"Creepy. Creeper? There we go, it was a Creeper."

"Naming it already, Shepard? Personally, I would have gone with 'Spike'."

"Spike?"

"Human pet names. It was either that or 'Fluffy', and that thing didn't look like a 'Fluffy'."

"'Fluffy'? 'Spike'? Do humans really name their pets such… mundane names?"

"Not always. Garrus has just watched too many soap operas. Alenko, open the door."

The button pushed, the slab of weathered plascrete retreated up into the ceiling. Shepard, Alenko, Garrus and Tali took three steps forward and stared. The ground was littered with torn apart bodies- not human blood, just a multitude of crushed, dismembered creepers, oozing a thick ichor from their broken remains. Looking around at the devastation, Shepard was the first to find the source.

"Jorge, report! What the hell happened here!" Shepard commanded as she climbed a small slope towards the elevator.

Up the slight incline, Jorge sat, his machine gun in his lap and his back to one of the barricades as he fiddled with his Legacy. Within reach, a shotgun lay. His armor looked… used. He rose to meet his commanding officer, putting aside his work for the moment.

"I secured the bay as requested, ma'am. Neutralized the colonists guarding it, no casualties. Then these… creatures…. attacked, and…."

"Grey skinned, looked almost human but they weren't?" Shepard interrupted.

"Yes, ma'am."

"We're calling them creepers for now." A very turian snicker was heard, and ignored. "What else?"

"I was attacked by nearly two dozen of them," Jorge continued. At a closer range, Shepard took a moment to examine his armor, something not lost on the big man.

"Acid attacks," he supplied, holding out a gauntleted arm. The green paint was ragged, eaten away by the acid. In some places on the bare metal there were tiny pits, like the dimples on a golf ball except smaller. There were patches over both arms and pieces of his legs, in addition to small parts of the orange breastplate that had been exposed. Looking towards his gun, Shepard spotted more pockmarks on the weapon, and more interestingly, exposed circuit cards.

"It appears armor piercing rounds are inadequate against the creepers, ma'am," he explained. "It wasn't until I picked up one of the shotguns the colonists' had that I was able to start killing them. The AP rounds just tore straight through, no damage. So was trying to remove the AP mod." Shepard nodded in comprehension.

"Garrus, how long will it take to get that mod off? We're going to need the firepower."

"Two minutes, tops," he replies. Normally, removing or adding an ammunition mod is as simple as inserting the chit containing the software change and maybe changing in a new block of ammo, no more than five seconds. Unfortunately, the modifications done to the Legacy by Tali had rendered such a process much more difficult. But, in the end, Garrus had managed to cajole the system into accepting the mod, and he would be the one capable of removing it as well.

"Do it, quick. We need to assault the colony before the Geth get more reinforcements here."

Jorge cleared his throat at that. "There may be a… complication there, ma'am," he began. "Before they turned on me, I gave them some grenades to aid in the defense. I gave them four, and they used two."

"Shit."

Silence reigned for awkward moments. It was Jorge who finally broke it.

"Ma'am, do we have a plan for assaulting the colony?"

"We did," she answered, deep in thought. "We stopped by the Exo-Geni survivors, and found out that the process the Thorian uses to take control of people also leaves them extremely vulnerable to nerve agents. So we've got a simple nerve gas loaded on our grenades- in normal humans, it's so weak and diluted it would just cause mild discomfort, but it should be more than enough to knock out the mind-controlled colonists. But if they have grenades, even two of them… this is going to be a lot more interesting."

"Why did you give them grenades in the first place?" Alenko asked, unhappy.

"Geth Destroyers," Jorge shrugged. A faint 'oh' came from where Tali was watching Garrus work. Alenko merely scowled. Silence reigned again.

"We have to push forward," Shepard mused aloud. "We have to get to the Thorian. The colonists already had guns, the addition of grenades merely makes them slightly more deadly."

"Aaaannnndd… there," Garrus said, satisfied. In his hand he held a small chit, one that he offered to Jorge, who took it and put it in one of the small pouches on his belt.

"So what's the plan, Commander?" Alenko asked. Off to the side, Jorge test fired his newly un-augmented gun. The thunder of the Legacy boomed throughout the hanger, but did not distract the others. Satisfied with the results, Jorge too listened to Shepard.

"Same as before. Hit fast, hold fire and let the gas grenades do their work. We're going to spread out, prevent them from getting us all with one grenade. Kadar, any chance that armor can take a grenade?"

"As long as it doesn't stick to me, I should survive any grenade explosion."

"Perfect. You have point, I'll follow with grenades. Alenko, how's your fine control with biotics?"

"Ah… err…."

"Alright. You Tali, you and Garrus are behind us, to the side if we have room. I want you disabling as many weapons as you can as fast as you can. Alenko, you have rear guard, and biotic overwatch. You see any more of those creepers trying to close, you lift or throw or do whatever you can to keep them away from us, got it? Good. Let's do this, people."

The elevator ride was short but tense. Jorge, purposely in front of all the others, was quite relieved to find no angry mob of suicidal colonists, or worse, more of the 'creepers', awaiting them.

It did not last. In the corridor between the stairwell and the elevator, a creeper sat, curled in its defensive position. One look at it and Tali blasted it with a shotgun- for no damage at all. The thing might as well have been a rock. Jorge had found that out the hard way when attempting to cut down the odds a bit during the garage fight. Whenever they were 'resting', something locked down their bodies and made them practically invulnerable. Jorge, with his AP rounds, had done some damage, but it had taken too long to destroy one in such a state.

_Wait for it…._

The creeper began to rise, slowly unfolding from the curled position to stand. It never finished. Jorge knocked it down with the butt of the gun, and mercilessly stomped until the head and torso were nothing more than a flattened mess. The only way to really destroy the abominations, he had found out.

"Enemies are here!" came a shout from the stairwell.

"Protect the heart of the colony!" came a weaker voice from beyond.

_So much for surprise._

"Damn. Move, quick," Shepard commanded. Out of the corner of his eye, Jorge saw Tali slump her shoulders a little.

Jorge, first to see through the doorway, found a pair of colonists sheltering behind a fallen piece of plascrete. Fearlessly, they opened fire on him without even attempting cover. He held his fire as he stepped through the doorway, allowing the pellets to hammer his shields unopposed. Three quarters strength… half strength….

A green cloud interrupted his musings. While the colonists had been focused on him, Shepard had slipped a grenade to their side and detonated it. The colonists fell instantly.

"That was quick," Jorge commented with a raised eyebrow. Like a puppet with its strings cut…

"Seems the gas grenades are effective," Tali commented.

"Yep. Keep moving, we've got to do this fast," Shepard ordered.

Jorge was already descending the stairs. In front of him, on the landing, two creepers rose. He opened fire before they could even begin charging him.

The armor piercing mod had modified the ammunition shape in the internal computer, condensing it into a small, dense ball. With the mod removed, the computer defaulted to the regular shape, size and configuration- a small pellet shaving, a less dense ball. The normal shavings would flatten on impact, unlike the AP shavings, allowing for a much greater transfer of energy to the object hit- but resulting in less armor penetration. Against Geth, this was less desirable, considering the synthetics were all armored, but against organic targets such as humans or the creepers, the impact flattening would dramatically increase the damage done.

Jorge was satisfied that visible damage was done to the creepers he fired upon. Unlike in the garage, where nothing more than millimeter wide holes appeared in the creepers, his unmodded gun began punching holes centimeters in diameter, with much larger exit wounds. The greater transferal of energy also began to affect the creepers closing speed, as they had to fight their way through machine gun fire. Even so, they closed. Jorge prepared himself for another melee fight when one went flying backwards, a hole the size of his fist punched clean through its chest- Tali, who had apparently equipped some Sledgehammer rounds, his interface told him. The other was thrown violently back by a field of blue energy- Alenko. More shotgun blasts roared around him, undercut by the chatter of an assault rifle, all punctuated by the thunder of a machine gun. Even so, it took more time than one would think before the creepers finally stopped moving.

The threat taken care of, Jorge descended the stairs, stopping behind the pillar at the bottom. This was it. The one entrance to the base. The colonists, with his help, had prevented a Geth assault from this same direction. Now he was assaulting, and it looked just as imposing as it had against the Geth. One door. Barricades and stone blocking their way, colonists just waiting to open fire. Shepard hit his shoulderpad once, and he swung out into the landing, Shepard following in his shadow.

"Kill the intruders!"

"Protect the heart of the colony!"

Jorge walked calmly forward at a fair pace, Shepard hiding in his massive shadow with a shotgun ready, just as on Eden Prime. He did nothing but watch as his shields slowly drained… three quarters.

"Kill them all!"

"Invaders!"

A creeper stepped into view and began running for them, followed quickly by two more. Grimly, Jorge prepared himself for more hand-to-hand. He couldn't fire on them without hitting the colonists. Before they could reach him, the front two were wrapped in a blue field and floated into the air. The third was thrown violently backwards by another field of blue, hitting a metal barrier with a sickening *splat*. Two colonists cursed as their guns quit working, slackening the fire slightly. A small, disk shaped object appeared in his vision, heading for the colonists. One-third strength…

"Eat grenade, bastards!"

Warning bells went off in his head. That was Arcelia's voice. Lo and behold, a small blinking disk was tumbling end over end towards the stair landing.

His enhanced mind already knew where it would land, just a step behind him and to his right. He could shield Shepard easily, but Garrus and Tali would be caught in the blast. Alenko would be far enough behind to be unaffected. And with his shields rapidly draining, his armor was going to take the brunt of this blast- if he was closer than five feet, he would be injured. Two feet and he could be fatally wounded. Still, it was a better alternative than having the rest of the team injured. He could fight through an injury. He doubted anyone other than Shepard could.

"Grenade!" he shouted. He turned faster than any seven-foot tall creature should be able to, bodily grabbed Shepard with his rightarm, took two massive steps, bear hugged Garrus and Tali with a machine gun laden arm, and pressed them all against the wall.

A grenade went off, but he did not feel the concussive force, or feel his armor and shields protesting as they attempted to mitigate the blast. Fire slackened off, and moments after the explosion was heard there were other sounds… one was a splat, like a watermelon being slammed into the ground. The other was a number of thuds. Gunfire ceased. Curious, he chanced a look behind him. There was no fireball, no scorching, only a small disk that was blinking a red light no more than four feet away…

"Ah hem."

Jorge focused on Shepard, still pinned against a squirming Tali and Garrus. Shepard, however, was calm, collected, and glaring at Jorge with what looked like a mixture of amusement and annoyance. As squashed as she was, there was unmistakably a grenade detonator in her hand, pinned to her chest… oh.

"Sorry, ma'am," he apologized, stepping back enough to let everyone out- away from the grenade.

"Good instincts. But next time, try not to squash us, alright?"

"Yes ma'am."

She chuckled at that one.

"Damn, that grenade was amazing!" came Alenko from where he had dived, behind the column. "The colonists all collapsed, but the creepers just… exploded!"

_So that's what those three piles of grey goop are…_ "Impressive."

"Focus, people. Jorge, you still have point. Alenko, detonate that grenade once we're all through, and watch out, they still have one more. We have to move fast, go!"

Cautious of the grenade, Jorge took point with Shepard once again using his hulking body as a shield. They passed the unconscious colonists, the piles of goo, and began to navigate the maze of the colony at a brisk pace. Another smallish ambush with more creepers was quickly taken care of by a well-placed grenade before Jorge's shield dropped below half. It appeared that the gas grenades had quite the radius on them, and it was very satisfying to watch the creepers implode into a greyish mess. If only enemies of the Covenent had been so easy to take care of. Well, grunts were. Sometimes.

The area opened to a small courtyard, the very same one that he had jogged through no more than two hours ago. And it was filled with colonists and creepers. Unable to use Jorge like a tank due to the firing angles, Shepard dropped behind cover and began throwing grenades at carefully selected locations. Garrus, Tali, and Alenko also found cover, using their abilities to disrupt weapons and keep the creepers away respectively.

Jorge, of course, continued to play his part as 'distraction' by marching straight up the center at a slow pace, firing controlled bursts at various creepers as Shepard began detonating the grenades. First fire slackened to the left, when his shields were at half. Then fire disappeared from his right side, when his shields were nearing depletion. The final grenade detonated dead center ahead of him just as his shields fell, causing the various creepers to implode and colonists to collapse like puppets with their strings cut.

All, save one. A single colonist, behind cover no more than a few steps from Jorge, had been lucky enough to be just outside the radius of the various gas grenades Shepard had thrown.

"I've got him," Jorge said over the comm, before Shepard could throw another grenade.

"DIE DEFILERS!" the man shouted, stepping around cover with his scavenged assault rifle blazing. Jorge's shields, not fully recovered despite the fast recharge, blared a warning as they neared their limit, then collapsed altogether under the point blank assault.

Jorge, with bullets pinging off his chest and stomach plates, dropped his gun gently to the ground, took two broad steps, directed the gun elsewhere and grasped the mans' throat, all in one smooth motion. With practiced ease, he gently pressed his large thumb just to the side of the trachea, as he had done earlier in the day. The colonists struggles slowed, then stopped in a matter of seconds as the blood to his brain was cut off. He lowered the unconscious colonist lightly to the ground as his teammates converged on his location.

"Good work, Jorge. Tali, figure out how to get this damn crane working. We need to get under the colony. Shepard to Joker…"

"You know, you scare me sometimes," Alenko commented. Jorge merely grunted. They were still missing a colonist…

"What, you mean how he can take an assault rifle at point blank and not even slow down?" Garrus threw out wryly.

"I was thinking more about how Jorge just disabled someone in less than ten seconds with one hand, but that too," Alenko grumbled.

"Cheer up, he's-"

The unmistakable sound of shuffling feet cut Garrus' comment short. Everyone turned to the source of the sound, weapons raised to fend off more creepers. None fired as the lone figure came stumbling jerkily into view.

"I tried to fight it," Fai Dan gritted out. "But it gets in your head… you can't imagine the pain." He continued to jerkily shuffle forward, a small device clutched in his hands. Shepard, pistol raised, gave a quick hand signal to her squad- no firing. Jorge watched, ready to intervene, as her hand slowly went towards her hip, and the remaining gas grenades.

"I was supposed to be a leader," he continued, barely seeing them, still shuffling forward. His hands now looked as though they were straining to come apart while he resisted. "They trusted… me…"

The detonator and grenade came apart in one smooth motion, hand cranking back to throw. Jorge would have pulled the trigger had he not seen the man freeze, his face a mask of agony as the active grenade blinked quietly in his hand.

"It… It wants me to stop you!" he shouted. His arm jerkily came forward, not fast enough to throw a grenade. "But I won't!" The hand stopped, the grenade now held high over his head. Jorge noticed his thumb quivering over the detonator.

Warning bells went off in Jorge's head. Active grenade, add in pain, and a little resolve… he was far enough away that the blast wouldn't hurt anyone but himself. Calculations ran through his head, and with a slight frown, he came to a sobering conclusion: he could do nothing. Any movement on his part would likely distract the colonist and set off the grenade. Any shooting on his part with his heavy hitting, inaccurate machine gun would just as likely kill the colonist, not to mention the risk of the grenade going off. He could only hope that Shepard or Garrus saw the signs too and did something about it.

"I WON'T!" +_boom+_

The remains of Fai Dan, leader of the independent colony of Zhu's Hope on the world of Feros, spread across the ground in a bloody heap. Jorge grimaced. In front of him, he saw Shepard freeze. Garrus opened his mandibles in shock, and Tali's body language indicated the same.

"Damn."

-{()}-

To be honest, I was planning on doing the rest of Feros in one go, but once I got to this point I realized it was a good place to stop. That, and I could get it out and read by you, my faithful reader.

I started a full-time job back in October of last year. I have a little routine for writing now, but the fact of the matter is that I have less time now than when I started writing this story. So don't be too put off by absences of weeks- rest assured, I am working, just slowly. I promised myself I would finish this story when I started it, and I intend to keep to that even if it takes me years.

Anyways, other notes: due to a comment and subsequent conversation with user Rydan fall, I have modified Chapter 6 slightly so that Jorge has some help putting his armor on in fifteen minutes. I think that's the only time he has a time crunch, but I need to go back and re-read the story to make sure. Also, a minor addition or two to the Q&A chapter. I haven't been seeing too many things in the comments that need answering- if you really want something answered, get a user account and PM or ask in the comments, I have been having some interesting conversations with people who have asked questions.

Once again, thank you all for reading. Not sure when the next chapter will be out, but it's probably going to be next month sometime.


	19. Chapter 17- Feros Part 3

"If I don't get to kill something soon, Shepard, I'm going to cause some serious property damage."

The ever-subtle Wrex.

"You will get to kill something, Wrex. I can practically guarantee it. Now, is that all the colonists?"

Given that most of the colonists had been concentrated in a last ditch effort to stop Shepard's assault, the answer was 'yes'. The colonists, still unconscious, had been hauled into the downed freighter that made up Zhu's Hope living quarters and had been tied down to their bunks. With the colonists subdued, the ground team could focus on more pressing matters. Like the Thorian.

"All right, everybody here? Tali, get over here! You can finish working on the crane in a minute! All right, is that everyone?"

Shepard received nods from around the circle. Wrex, Tali, Liara, Jorge, Alenko, Williams, and Garrus all listened intently on her.

"Good. Here's the plan. Alenko, you are in charge of colony defense. Keep the colonists under control if they wake up, and keep the Geth away if they attack again. Tali, Liara, Garrus, you're with Alenko. Williams, Wrex, Kadar and I will go and find the Thorian."

"There'd bettered be stuff to kill, Shepard…" Wrex grumbled.

"Considering that the Thorian is hostile and we took care of the Geth, you have a much better chance of killing shit by following my lead, Wrex, so can it. Tali, how's the crane coming?"

"I'm almost done rewiring everything."

"Good. Get on it. Soon as it's done, tell us. We need to get moving. Oh, that reminds me; Alenko, Kadar locked a colonist in some room he holed up in past the skyway elevator- if you're bored, go retrieve him."

"Yes ma'am. Op Chief?"

Jorge, his helmet off and his gun set carefully beside it some distance away, activated his omni and opened a small document to take notes on. After transcribing the code he had used to lock the Grizzly and checking to be sure it was correct, he put it all in a folder with a map of the area he had been through and put it up on the squad wireless. All in all, he was relatively proud of how fast he did that- it only took him just under half a minute to do something that would have been all but impossible a month ago.

"We're ready!" Tali shouted out. Jorge quickly put his helmet on and took up position in the semi-circle of other ground teammates, all aiming their weapons at the indicated module that was going to be raised. For all they knew, creepers were about to come boiling out like demons from the gates of hell- and they would be ready.

"Raise it!" Shepard called when everyone was in place.

The module lifted smoothly and nearly silently. There was not a vast wave of creepers now pouring out at them, much to everyone's relief. Instead, there was simply a hole, a stairway down into the depths of the long-abandoned building. Jorge got the sense that this was almost as ominous as having the creepers attack. No one made to lower their gun.

"Wrex, Ash, shotguns out. Wrex has point, followed by Jorge. Go," she commanded quietly.

The silence was broken as Wrex stumped over to the opening, slight grin on his face, shotgun at the ready. In contrast, Jorge moved silently, despite being larger and heavier than the Krogan. Three shotgun barrels and a machine gun barrel stared silently into the dark stairwell.

"Pagh," Wrex snorted, before stomping down the first steps.

-{()}-

Down they went through the dimly lit paths, several stories, before they came to a corridor. Rounding a bend, they saw before them a large open space.

"So, let me get this straight," Ashley said. "All we need to do is… is…"

Jorge couldn't help but agree. A large, fleshy mass of sickly green with some sort of head-like appendage with tentacles hanging from it was suspended in the middle of the room. It didn't seem that finding the Thorian was going to be an issue. However…

"There is no way that's a plant," he voiced. Shepard stepped forward, her shoulders sagging as she held the shotgun limply in her arms.

"It's never easy, is it? Why can't it be easy, just this once?" she asked to no one in particular. Straightening her shoulders, she pushed past the disappointed Wrex and moved closer to examine the "plant".

A horrible retching sound drew attention to the plant. The 'head' convulsed, the tentacles spasming. Pointing his gun at the plant, Jorge prepares himself for whatever will happen next. This could be an attack- if it can mind control people with spores, who's to say it can't hack up some acids to shoot at them? And if it did… this was going to be one tough SOB to take down. Even his machine gun probably wouldn't do any meaningful damage to the creature- they'd need the Mako. Hell, maybe the best plan was just to evacuate the colony and let Joker use the main guns… what?

With a sound like a water balloon breaking, something came slowly from the tentacles. It hit the ground with a soft plop, then stood up. It wasn't a creeper. It was… an asari?

_Didn't see that coming. This universe gets stranger every second._

An asari commando, her skin an unnatural green and her expression domineering, fixed her eyes on Shepard.

"Invaders!" she said, her voice inflected yet somehow devoid of emotion. "Your every step is a transgression. A thousand feelers appraise you as meat, good only to dig or decompose."

_She must be some sort of thrall, under the mind control of the Thorian._

"I speak for the Old Growth, as I did for Saren. You are within…"

Jorge didn't really hear the rest of it. All he cared about was 'Saren'. Saren had been here, had talked with this creature. It must have something important.

"You gave something to Saren. Something I need." The asari looked curiously at Shepard for the remark.

"Saren sought knowledge of those who are gone. The Old Growth listened to flesh for the first time in the Long Cycle. Trades were made. Then cold ones began killing the flesh that would tend the next cycle. Flesh fairly given! The Old Growth sees the air you push as lies! It will listen no more!"

"I'm going after Saren. All I need is…"

"No more will the Thorian listen to those that scurry. Your lives are short, but have gone on too long!"

Before even Jorge could make a move, a blue field sent the Asari smashing backwards. Her body hit the Thorian before tumbling down into the wreckage of the ancient building. Everyone turned to look at Wrex, a blue nimbus fading from his form.

"Too much talk," the krogan shrugged. Around them, creepers began to unfold from their positions. Shepard let out a low sigh.

"So how do we get the information it gave to Saren now?" Jorge wondered aloud.

A shotgun blast punctuated the air, Williams having blasted a creeper back. Even with a hole the size of Jorge's fist punched clean through its chest, it began to get back up. Jorge unleashed a hail of fire from his own gun, destroying the head and chest of the creeper, before swinging his gun like a two-handed club to knock down a creeper that had chosen him as a target.

"I don't think it's just going to give us what we want!" Ashley shouted over the din of battle.

Shepard narrowly dodged a stream of acid spewing from one of the creepers, then gave it a quick kick to the legs. The creeper lost footing and went down on a knee, exactly as she predicted. One twitch of the shotgun and it was line up with the creepers head, point blank. Boom. No more creeper.

"We need to convince it somehow!" Shepard shouted. "That we're not a threat and it can trust us!"

"I don't think that's going to happen, Commander," Jorge replied. Most of the creepers were down. Jorge was watching Wrex as he said those words, who was quite enthusiastically handling the rest. Shepard finished off the last creeper near her with a boom from her shotgun. Checking the area, she satisfied herself that there were no other hostiles coming for her, and looked towards the massive 'plant' thing that was the Thorian. Ashley came to her side as Shepard stared at the creature. She stared disdainfully at it.

"Saren already turned it against us. Even if it wasn't destroyed, he still got what he wanted," Jorge noted.

"We _have_ to get that information. It's our only lead. It's the only way we can follow Saren," Shepard said in a frustrated tone.

"That was fun, Shepard. I hope there's more," Wrex joined.

"This would be a lot _easier,_ Wrex, if SOMEONE hadn't killed the messenger," Shepard grit out.

"Sorry." Wrex looked completely unapologetic, and still quite happy.

"So what now?" Williams asked.

"We need to get it talking again. Somehow. We have to convince it to share whatever it gave to Saren!"

Internally, Jorge was conflicted. Yes, they needed that information, whatever it was. However, the Thorian had endangered human lives and attempted to kill him on many occasions now. Unsuccessfully, but still, the intent was clear. It was a threat to human lives, and his soldiering instincts were clear on the matter: eliminate the threat. It was possible- if it was made, it could be unmade. If riddling the main body with bullets didn't work, the massive tentacles anchoring the creature hundreds of stories in the air would likely be easier to destroy. If all else failed, just bring down the building. That would probably be the best way to do it, the planet was abandoned and the kill was guaranteed. Still, they needed the information it possessed. It was their only lead on Saren.

But what to do? He was glad Shepard, not he, was the one charged with that choice.

"So get its attention," Wrex grunted casually, rolling his shoulders.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Williams asked.

"Shooting stuff usually gets their attention," Wrex replied.

Of course! Interrogation, just like he had tried earlier, with the colonist. Pain could bring answers, or at least the potential threat could cause it to pay attention to them again. Underneath his helmet, he grinned slightly.

"Commander, those tentacles, they anchor the creature to the building. They go, it falls. I bet if we destroy a few, it would try to talk to us again," he voiced. Shepard turned sharply to him.

"It would see us as a threat and keep attacking!" she insisted.

"It already sees us as a threat," Williams murmured slowly.

"And even if it doesn't tell us about Saren," Wrex continued with a grin, "Then we get to kill the thing responsible for mind controlling the colony and free them."

Jorge was honestly surprised- he hadn't expected the krogan to bring up the biggest point in his mind. Shepard seemed of a like mind. Williams just smirked.

Shepard opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. A moment later, a more sobering look came across her face.

"I hate it when you're right, you know that, Wrex?" A grunting laugh came from the old krogan battlemaster. "All right, here's the plan. We start lopping off support tentacles. It starts talking, we stop shooting and negotiate. If it doesn't, well, I guess killing this thing will have to be enough. Jorge, set some waypoints, we need to find the nearest one and then keep going from there."

"Yes, ma'am."

His eyes examined the Thorian, tracing the numerous support tentacles to their anchors, marking each one using his neural link on his HUD and illuminating them on the group map. Some were going to be hard to get to. Others looked to be easy. Especially the first one, no more than a room away. Which they could partially see was filled with creepers. Shepard sighed.

"Well, we have our first target. Wrex, you have the lead."

Creepers rose as the group approached. Between three shotguns and a machine gun, the handful of creepers that were guarding the anchor were painted across the walls. Still, it was strange that it had only had a few guarding what Jorge considered to be an incredibly obvious weakness. Now that they were considered a threat, he expected creepers to be pouring in by the second, not sitting idly by. Perhaps it never considered them a threat? Or maybe it had believed that its spores would corrupt any before they found it? Perhaps it couldn't conceive of creatures attacking it at all?

"So, how do we destroy it?" Williams asked, eyeing the anchor. A very organic, sickly green-and-skin colored mass of flesh, the anchor was a tendril nearly two meters in diameter ending in a claw-like appendage that gripped the ancient concrete.

"No idea," Shepard commented, frowning. Wrex fired his shotgun at the mass. The damage was imperceptible.

Jorge began running through options in his head. He, and maybe Wrex, might be able to pry off the claw, but that would undoubtedly take a lot of time and effort, if he could do it at all. Bullets would likewise be less than helpful against something of this size- even his machine gun would likely take a good amount of time to chew through all that mass, and having to stop and wait every twenty seconds for his gun to cool down would mean it would take a considerable amount of time. What they needed was something more, like a heavy weapon- Jorge found himself wishing for a rocket launcher. Wait a minute…

"Commander. Breaching explosives." Shepard's eyes lit up.

"Now THAT sounds like fun," Wrex grinned. Williams was grinning from ear to ear as well.

"Do it."

Jorge waited patiently as Wrex and Williams grabbed the breaching charges from his pack. It would have to be one of the satchel charges- simple det cord wouldn't make a dent in that monster of an anchor. Considering that he wasn't carrying bullets like he normally would, he had more satchel charges and other breaching explosives than normal, but it could still become a problem if there were too many anchors. Once out, Shepard scanned the satchel charge with her omni, picking up the unique frequency and security codes that were embedded in the high-explosive material. That done, she handed them to Jorge, the only one tall enough to fix the explosives to the center of the tentacle. With the charge attached to the far side of the tentacle, Jorge grabbed his gun and retreated to where the others were standing, near the foot of a flight of stairs.

"Cover your ears. Detonating in 3…. 2…. 1…."

Shepard hit the holographic button on her upraised omni-tool, sending the detonate command to both breaching charges. Jorge, with his Spartan nerves and enhanced eyesight, was treated to the slow-motion sight of an orange fireball blossoming from the side of the fleshy mass._ Beautiful_.

The satchel charge, pre-cut to 4.5kg of high explosive, was designed to breach hardened structures up to and including reinforced concrete bunkers. While the fleshy tentacle anchor was by no means made of reinforced concrete, it was much larger than the typical breach wall; it still held together, but only by the slimmest of margins. Green liquid dripped from the remains; ribbons of charred tentacle crisscrossed the intervening space now, and a section approximately a quarter of a meter wide on the far side from the charge was the only survivor.

"HAHAHA!" Wrex laughed.

"And it is GONE!" Williams hooted over the laughter. "A few more of those and I bet it'll fall!"

Jorge frowned and opened his mouth, but Shepard beat him to it.

"We don't want it to fall, we want it to talk to us. Which means, _Wrex_, that any non-creepers are not targets, understand?"

"Yes, Shepard."

"Good. You still have point, let's get to the next target and hope it's in a more talkative mood."

As they headed up the stairs, Jorge heard an unsettling sound, like someone trying desperately to hold down their lunch multiplied by ten. At the top of the stairs, a faint wet _splat_ got his attention. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

The corridor curved right. Shepard led now, her shotgun at rest- Jorge wasn't sure the attempt to appear non-threatening would work after blowing an anchor to hell would work, but if that's what she wanted he would follow her orders. Slowly, they headed towards their next objective, waiting for the next representative of the Thorian to show itself. If there was one.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

There she was.

A ball of black followed the shout, heading towards the team. Jorge had done his research- it was a singularity, the biotics warping space so much that light could not escape. While not an actual black hole, the singularity was known for its disorienting effects and the potential to lift unprotected individuals off their feet and draw them into the area of the singularity. Any such unfortunate individual would be helplessly exposed until the fields collapsed and the singularity dissipated.

Shepard was already diving out of the way. Williams, while her combat reflexes were admirable, was not so lucky- she was apparently the target. With speed faster than any human should be capable of, Jorge grabbed the Gunnery Chief with one hand and heaved her, along with himself, out of the path of the gravatic attack. He felt the pull of the ball of gravity, but never left his feet.

"We just want to talk!" Shepard shouted around the cover she had taken. It was dangerously close to the hole where the Thorian lay, just one story below.

"Lies! You wish to destroy the Old Growth, just like the cold ones! The Old Growth will not fall for your trickery again!"

A creeper came around the corner of Shepard's cover and punctuated the statement with a swipe of its diseased-looking claws. Shepard didn't try to reason with the creeper- she blew it back before it connected a blow, a hole the size of his fist punched through its torso. It began to get up. Behind it, Jorge saw more creepers coming. Jorge held his fire for the moment. The asari- the exact same asari as Wrex had killed earlier!- was in the way.

"You have to listen to me! We are not the enemy, Saren is!"

"LIAR!"

The asari stepped around the column Shepard stood behind, murder in her eyes, corona flaring as she readied a biotic attack at point blank range. Shepard, shocked, didn't react fast enough. Jorge did. Wrex did.

A field hit the asari, and before she could let her own attack off she was lifted into the air and towards Wrex, who grinned. Jorge, unwilling to let this asari threaten his commanding officer any further, opened up on the helpless thrall. Full automatic, the machine gun at his hips spit round after round into the asari, and when she died, he shifted fire to the remaining creepers. Wrex laughed and fired blast after blast from his shotgun. Williams fired at any creepers she could see until they died.

The massacre lasted nineteen seconds. Jorge's gun, tested to the limit, was a hair away from the overheat indication. But every creeper was down. The asari was down. Shepard was unhappy.

"God dammit!" she swore as she stomped over to the inert body of the asari.

"Commander, I don't think it's going to negotiate with us," Jorge voiced.

Shepard didn't answer immediately. She stared down at the broken asari, watching it instead. The asari had begun to break down into a mushy substance- her features softening, her body dissolving. Whatever it was, it was just like the creepers- not truly an asari, never really alive. Jorge watched Shepard stare at the display, her emotions hidden through her armor.

"I suppose you're right, Jorge," she said finally. It was the voice of defeat, and he knew why- by failing to get the information Saren had gotten, they had no more leads, no further way to trace him. Saren had won. Jorge felt it too; a hollow feeling, an emptiness brought about by failure. He had felt such things before, when his brothers and sisters had died. When he had failed to fight to squads of marines or civilians fast enough, arriving only to find dead bodies. When even the speed and strength of a Spartan had not been enough to turn the tide of a battle, of a war. He knew how to handle such a feeling. Though it rarely made him feel better.

"You did your best, Commander. That's all you can do," he said softly.

"I know," she replied, equally soft. "But… it just…"

Silence reigned as Shepard trailed off.

It was cut by the blast of a shotgun from up ahead.

"Shepard, we found the next anchor!" Williams shouted from somewhere.

Shepard slowly straightened. Even if her back was to him, Jorge could feel her set her jaw. No more indecision.

"Jorge, get the next charge out and get it planted," she said, walking purposefully to where Williams was waiting. "Williams, help him. Wrex and I will be scouting ahead. Weapons free, people."

The anchor was in a room that had partially collapsed. Densely packed rubble formed a sort of ramp, and the anchor was attached halfway up the 'ramp'. He heard shotgun blasts from ahead, where Shepard and Wrex appeared to be having another pitched battle. He forced himself to ignore the sounds as Williams got out the satchel charge and primed it. Unfortunately, the anchor tentacle was too high off the ground for him to reach normally. Williams, hefted into the air practically to his shoulders, placed the 4.5kg satchel charge. That done, they both hurried to rejoin Shepard and Wrex.

Wrex looked to be smoking from several places- likely contact with the acid attacks of the creepers- but the huge smile and look in his eyes told Jorge he was both unharmed and enjoying himself immensely. Shepard looked up from where she was examining a creeper.

"The anchor?"

A boom echoed from behind him. He didn't have to be a Spartan to know what had happened.

"Taken care of," Williams said with a cocky tone.

"Well, there's the next one. Wrex, you have the lead."

A short corridor later, and the four of them were predictable attacked by a mass of creepers. Laughing, Wrex charged the lot of them, his bulk and momentum knocking the creepers aside as though they were twigs. As one, the rest of the team set about their messy business with their weapons of choice. Another asari joined halfway through.

"Surrender and we won't kill the Thorian!" Shepard shouted over the din of battle, her shields flaring as the asari peppered her with fire from an assault rifle.

"LIAR!"

That was as far as the asari got before she moved a little too close to Wrex. One massive backhand later, and the asari joined the first clone in tumbling into the depths of the building. Wrex's laughter only increased.

_Working with Wrex is like working with Emile when he feels invincible_, Jorge thought to himself. A much louder Emile, admittedly- even Emile the psychopath didn't laugh heartily in the middle of combat. Though the krogan wasn't as annoying as his former Spartan III teammate- Wrex at least had a clear goal whenever he tried to rile Jorge up with immature acts, trying to goad him into a fight to test his strength. Emile did it just for fun.

With the creepers reduced to piles of mush, another charge was planted, then detonated. As the group headed on, Jorge privately worried about the state of the creature. He only brought four satchel charges, the rest was a mixture of grenades and lower-yield explosives. If the Thorian needed more than four tentacles to drop, they would have to start improvising.

Bullets pinging on his shields brought his attention back to the battle. The next anchor was practically right next to the one they had just destroyed. He had hoped that would mean that the asari clone would be absent, but apparently the Thorian was churning them out fast. At a signal from Shepard, Wrex charged down the curved corridor, heedless of his own safety as he scattered the creepers with his massive bulk. Behind him, Shepard and Ashley charged, their shotguns easier to manipulate in the confined spaces the team currently found themselves in. Jorge brought up the rear, methodically machinegunning every creeper that moved that had been missed or merely knocked down by the aggressive charge. Wrex was certainly enjoying the experience, though Jorge wondered how long it would last. Somewhere in the mix the asari died, though not before throwing Williams into a wall. The marine was fine. A good soldier, that one.

While Jorge would never be so careless as to not pay attention in combat, he felt himself dropping into a rhythm and his mind wandering as his body fought and reacted. They worked well together, under Shepard's command. Wrex, with his tough, burly body and heavy armor, waded in and acted as a distraction- his typical role, not that he was complaining. These close quarters just weren't meant for a man his size. Then Shepard and Williams would follow, acting as support while their tougher comrade ran rampant. The he would follow, the cleanup crew, finishing off all those who were still moving.

It wasn't much different than Noble, if he was being honest with himself. They flowed through the battlefield like water; there was no obstacle that could not be bested when they worked together as a team. Sure, Shepard was no Carter- but just as with his former team leader, she saw problems in combat before they could crop up and shouted orders accordingly, avoiding the problem altogether and keeping the momentum going. He saw in her what he saw in Carter: a natural leader. Someone who could take a fellow soldier, and push them to their full potential and beyond. John may have been lucky, he may have been an excellent tactician and an effective leader, but Carter and Shepard led like it was the most natural thing in the world. The team was their weapon, not the rifle.

Jorge refocused on the moment. Their enemies were dead, the charges needed to be placed. He held still as Williams got the charge out from his pack and primed it.

"Commander, this is our last heavy charge," he reported.

"Then let's hope this is the last one we need to take out," Shepard replied from the ramp.

The anchor was high- even standing on Jorge's shoulders, Williams couldn't place the charge on the side like the times before. They chose to place the charge underneath instead, and took up position with Shepard and Wrex just outside the next door.

"And 3… 2… 1…" *_BOOM*_

The Thorian gave what Jorge could only describe as a pained squeal, if it came from something like a Hunter. But, looking over the edge at the creature, it had still yet to fall.

"Damn. Tell me you've got some more explosives, Op Chief." She was looking at the next anchor, no more than five feet away over a nearly shear drop in the next room.

"Of course, Commander. Problem is, they're not as heavy duty as the satchel charges. We're going to need to use more than one to take out these anchors. We're going to run out just as fast."

"No choice. Wire it, blow it. Wrex and I will scout."

While this anchor was easy to reach, the lack of specialty explosives made the task a bit more difficult. In the end, Williams and Jorge attached four brick-like breaching charges, two on either side. Hoping that the impromptu explosives would be enough, they retreated down the rubble to the next room, where they found Wrex vainly attempting to bodily destroy a pair of inert creepers while Shepard looked on cautiously. Some silent communication between Williams and Shepard took place, culminating in Williams pressing the detonate button on her omni.

A roar was heard, not nearly as loud as the satchel charges. Looking back into the room, Jorge found to his disappointment that the tentacle, while quite clearly damaged, still looked partially intact. Enough so to still support significant weight.

"How many more do you have?" Shepard asked as she surveyed the failed attempt.

"Six more breaching charges. After that, thirty feet of det cord. Then we're out," he recited. He could feel the frown beneath her helmet mirroring his own concern.

"One more charge and five feet of det cord. If that doesn't compromise it, we're going to have to start getting creative."

"Yes, ma'am."

"How many more of these things do we have to take out?" Williams asked, frustrated.

"It has to be getting close," Jorge thought aloud as he shifted to allow her to unpack the explosives. The Thorian had nearly a dozen tentacles anchoring it thousands of feet above the ground in this building. While it was foolish to believe destroying any one anchor would cause it to go crashing to the ground, he doubted that it would have provided more than a fifty percent safety margin. Then again, he would have thought a thirty percent or so would be reasonable, something they had already surpassed. It took some fumbling to get the charge attached, the destruction of part of the anchor had released a large amount of foul-smelling liquid that prevented it from being securely attached in some places. The det cord was slightly easier. Once again, they retreated to the corridor, where Wrex was now shotgunning the inert creepers with little to no visible effect. At Shepard's silent command, Jorge detonated the mass.

This time, the results were satisfactory, which is to say that the anchor was now only holding together by the slimmest of margins. It could no longer bear the weight of more than a few hundred pounds.

But despite the pained groan the massive creature gave out, it remained suspended in the air.

"It can't be too many more," Jorge said. His voice betrayed his uncertainty. Surely nothing was so paranoid as to create nearly a dozen anchors when all it needed was a handful. Right?

"Right..." Shepard replied uncertainly. "I'm more concerned about these creepers. Why haven't they attacked us yet?"

A legitimate question, considering it conflicted with all the previous actions of the Thorian. Honestly, Jorge had been expecting them to attack while they were attempting to destroy the anchor. In such close quarters, with the team's attention elsewhere, it could have been deadly. Of course, with Wrex hovering over them and actively trying to destroy them, he doubted such a tactic would have been effective. Maybe that's why they hadn't attacked. Of course, with this anchor destroyed, they would be moving on, no longer watching them... the creepers could attack them from behind. An ambush, when they were occupied with other enemies or with another anchor.

"They knew we would destroy them," Williams voiced. Shepard nodded.

"So it's holding them back," Shepard said aloud. "Just because it's been dumb so far doesn't mean it will stay that way. Jorge, you have rearguard. Don't let us get surprised. Let's move."

The stairwell was wide enough for Jorge to ascend comfortably, but he was still loathe to fight on such ground. His weapon simply wasn't built for the narrow corridors and enclosed rooms they were fighting through. He wondered why Shepard had brought him along; maybe he had made an impression that he was effective against the creepers in the garage? Not that he wasn't useful, the ability to demolish the anchors meant Shepard would have likely called him down anyways, but still... A low moaning put Jorge on edge.

"YOU WILL GO NO FURTHER!" came a shout. By now the team had reached the landing, a rather large one whereupon there were a few creepers, according to his target designators. He was still on the stairwell.

The creepers they had passed began to get up. Jorge wasted no time in beginning to blast them as the rest of the team opened up on their targets, streaming down the stairs from the story above. The first creeper, blown off its feet by the repeated impacts of the heavy machine gun, tried in vain to get up but disintegrated after several seconds of machine gun fire. Wrex, Williams, and Shepards vital's all flared, indicating they were under attack- he ignored them for now, trusting them to do their jobs and stay alive. He then shifted his aim to the second, nearly halfway up the stairs. Several more seconds of gunfire and it joined the first as nothing more than a sickly mess on the floor.

_slam_

It wasn't much of an impact, as far as Jorge was concerned. Nothing really ever compared to getting blindsided by a brute. Or having a Hunter bash you with its shield. Even the Elites were no slouches, with a strength rivaling that of a Spartan without the Mjolnir on. Still, the added weight told him something had latched on to the backpack on his back. The scrabbling and hissing likely meant it was trying to hurt him. With a pivot, Jorge slammed his back against the concrete that made up the safety rails to the next level, crushing the creeper with his weight and strength. Completing the turn, he took stock of the situation.

Jorge immediately felt he should have been paying more attention to the shout and vital signs of his teammates.

He couldn't see Wrex, attempting to storm up the stairs. Williams was on the ground, fighting for her life as she desperately tried to keep a pair of creepers from using their acidic bile on her face. Her armor, already smoking in some places, wasn't going to last much longer under the assault, and her shotgun appeared to have been ripped out of her hands. Shepard too was under attack, but had managed to keep her shotgun. A small consolation, as she had twice as many creepers on her as Williams. Her armor was also smoking. He ignored Shepard for the moment- she still had a gun, and as an N7 was more likely to be able to handle herself in hand to hand combat. William's wasn't going to survive the next few seconds without help.

He ran as only a Spartan can, despite weighing a ton and carrying a machine gun as a big as a person. His enhanced low-level sight and reflexes allowed him to watch as Williams shoved her gauntlet into the mouth of one of the creepers in a desperate attempt to prevent the acidic bile from reaching her face, even as the other crawled over her thrashing body and attempted to claw through her armor. He reached her just as the one clawing her began to retch, something she only avoided by desperately shoving the head down, adjusting the target from her unprotected face to that of her smoking chest plate. Then Jorge arrived.

He stopped abruptly and put all his momentum into the butt of his machine gun, aiming for the creeper that was still upright. It went flying like a ragdoll, it's head and chest smashed in, and hit the wall with a splat. In an instant Jorge reached down to the struggling form of Williams and grabbed the creeper by the back of the skull. With an infinitesimal amount of his Spartan strength, he hoisted it into the air. Dropping his gun to the ground, he twisted slightly before crushing the creeper's head with his bare hands, before dropping it to the ground and stomping mercilessly on the torso. The creepers taken care of, he looked back at Williams- her thrashing had stopped.

"Williams!" he said. Crouching, he rolled her onto her back, and in an instant assessed her condition. His HUD indicated that her armor was detecting a heartbeat, and after what seemed like an infinity in Spartan time, he watched her lips tremble slightly with exhaled breath. In his head, Jorge praised whatever god might be out there. She was in bad condition, her armor likely completely compromised, but she was still alive and physically unharmed.

A low moan brought his attention back to the battle, where two more creepers were rapidly approaching. In one smooth motion, he grabbed William's dropped shotgun and stood, drilling one in the chest before he had even finished standing. Holding the shotgun out one-handed, he blasted the other back as well as he took stock of the situation now.

Shepard, while still outnumbered, was upright, fighting, and winning. Wrex was another story. He had been overwhelmed with creepers and had apparently gone down, but the krogan was tough. He had gotten back up, without his gun. Instead, he was wandering haphazardly, apparently disoriented, throwing drunken punches at the creepers as they tried to latch on to him and bring the old warrior down. Jorge could see several holes in his armor, no doubt eaten away by the acidic bile, but the old krogan looked no worse for wear. And he was still distracting half a dozen creepers just by standing. His shields had begun to spark, as the green asari attacked him, an ugly sneer adorning her features. A pair of creepers were starting to descend the stairs behind her. Processing the situation in the blink of an eye, Jorge acted.

He began moving, legs pumping as he moved towards the stairwell. He felt slow, his perception of the world modified by the enhancements to his body and mind. His right hand, still holding the shotgun effortlessly, pointed across his body in Shepard's direction. With a roar, one creeper that had been about to attack her was thrown away. He kept moving.

The asari flared blue, but Jorge kept moving. The shotgun swung and fired, this time knocking a pair of creepers away from Wrex. They weren't destroyed, just like Shepard's hadn't been, but their absence would buy the krogan time to recover. Jorge kept moving.

A pulse of blue slammed into his chest. In an instant, Jorge had the most curious sensations he had ever experienced. His stomach twisted, pulled two separate ways at once. One lung seemed to jump into his throat, the other pulled sideways and seemed to be crushed against his ribcage. Across his chest, he could feel shearing forces, as though someone had managed to grip the very fibers of his muscles and was trying to pry them apart. It was not a pleasant sensation, painful in many ways. He faltered for a second, not from the pain of the attack but from the disorientation it produced; his pain tolerance from the augmentation procedure to become a Spartan allowed him to ignore the pain as though it was a fly. But then he caught his footing, swung the shotgun up even as he began to climb the stairs, and pulled the trigger.

A warning blared from the shotgun- he had overheated it by firing it so fast. He dropped the gun as he continued up the steps. He was almost to her, moving at a speed that seemed impossible for something as large and as heavy as one such as him. And he was still speeding up. He could see the sneer morphing into a look of last-second panic as she flared again. It was too late.

Jorge hit the asari with the force of a freight train and did not stop. Grasping her fragile body in both hands, he held the thrall an arms' length away as he completed his charge up the stairs, knocking aside the three creepers on the way as though they were made of paper. Ahead of him was a wall. He didn't even try to stop. He just lowered his right shoulder.

The asari hit the wall with bone-shattering force, followed immediately by Jorge himself. Ancient concrete groaned, as one ton of enhanced human in starship-grade battle armor hurled himself against it. A cloud of pulverized concrete enveloped them, and for several long moments, nothing moved.

Jorge slowly pried himself out of the wall, glad he had had the foresight to charge with his up-armored bracer and shoulder first as opposed to his delicate omni-tool hand. The asari was no more than a pulpy mess within the wall itself now. Hands on his knees, Jorge took a moment to settle his stomach and steady his head. _Maybe I shouldn't have done that_. It had been more than a little overkill. But frankly, it had been very cathartic. That asari was starting to piss him off because it didn't have the sense to stay dead.

A low moan brought him back to reality. The creepers he had knocked out of the way were starting to get up. As he looked, the three picked themselves up from where they had been knocked aside. Footsteps were heard. A fourth creeper joined them at the doorway. As one, they turned to stare at him.

"So, who's first?" he muttered aloud. Straightening to his full 7'4'' height, he towered over the four creatures arrayed before him. A shotgun sounded from the stairwell.

As one, they shambled forwards, razor sharp hands outstretched to maul him. He took a step forward and swung a massive roundhouse.

One minute later, Jorge descended the stairs towards quiet. Both armored gauntlets were covered in the organic ooze that made up the creepers. Parts of his greaves and shin plates were a metallic grey, the paint destroyed from the creepers' acidic bile.

On the landing, piles of goop were all that remained of the creepers, quickly breaking down into nothing more than foul-smelling vapor and a permanent stain. Wrex was sitting against a wall, breathing very hard through his mouth. He didn't look good; his eyes were unfocused and he looked on the verge of passing out, his entire left arm armor had been eaten away, the reptilian skin looked raw, and most of the rest of his armor showed holes where acid had managed to eat through. But somehow, he was still conscious, if only barely.

Shepard was leaning over the prone form of Williams, near his gun. Her armor showed wear and tear as well, the paint having dissolved away and large divots that showed where she had been attacked by the creepers' sharp claws. But for all that, she was fine, or at least unharmed and upright.

Williams appeared to be unconscious still. Shepard appeared to have removed her breastplate, only her undersuit protection remaining for her torso, and from where he could see Jorge agreed with the choice. The breastplate had been eaten wholly through, and was still continuing to dissolve as he stepped down the stairs. If it had been on her chest, it would have no doubt eaten through her underlayer and into her chest, quickly killing her. Shepard looked up from her omni.

"Jorge, get Wrex to the next landing before he passes out- I'll handle Williams. We need to get them out of this stench!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

_Stench? _Jorge was suddenly glad that his fully-sealed suit contained air filtration systems.

Jorge grabbed his gun in one hand before heaving the barely-conscious Wrex to his feet with the other. Even in power-armor, the weight of a krogan warlord was not insubstantial, made only slightly better by the weaving of his feet as Jorge supported him with one arm. Ahead of him, Shepard carried Williams over her shoulders in a fireman's carry, her pistol out in one hand.

Matters were only made slightly worse when, nearly to stairs, Wrex jerked to the side and fell over. Grasping the great krogan's arm, he pulled him upright again, with no small amount of struggling. When he got back up, Jorge found that the krogan hadn't fallen- he'd stooped to pick up his lost shotgun. With the weapon clutched in his deathgrip, Jorge methodically guided the wheezing and weaving krogan up the stairs. Past the creepers he had personally taken care of, and the cracked hole where what remained of the asari continued to break down into its components, Jorge guided the krogan through the curved hallway to an open, curved room. Just inside the doorway, Shepard put Williams against the wall- looked like a good idea. Carefully guiding the muttering, drunken krogan towards the wall, the old warrior practically slumped to the floor, grunting to himself as he clutched his shotgun in a deathgrip.

There were no creepers, for the moment. He allowed himself to relax slightly, putting the heavy gun gently on the floor. He'd have to do some serious maintenance on it once this mission was over, he'd been dropping it all over the place. Shepard had taken off William's helmet and was lightly slapping her, trying to get a reaction.

"You mentioned a stench, ma'am?" he asked. The human sense of smell was underutilized, but it was still a powerful sense in its own right. Gasses were more than capable of disabling entire units from noxious vapors alone. For a krogan, with their more sensitive smell, it was likely a wonder he was even upright.

"Yea. Be glad your suit is sealed, I can still smell it in here. Much better, but it still reeks. Those bodies must give off at least ammonia- it smelled worse than a hobo alleyway once we killed all those damn creepers. The acid fumes can't be good either. Shit. Jorge, we need to keep the pressure on, and Williams and Wrex aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Think you can take out the next anchor while I get them on their feet?"

"Of course, ma'am," he replied without hesitation.

"Good. Let me get the spare medi-gel from your pack first though. Wrex looks like he could use some on the acid burns."

A furious snort came on the end of that, but there was no coherent protest from the dazed krogan.

With Shepard slathering the medi-gel on the grumbling Wrex, Jorge headed warily down the chamber. It would be nice if that ambush had been everything the Thorian had left, but Jorge doubted that. Gun at the ready, he stepped quietly into the narrow corridor between chambers. The diamond marking his next objective was very close. Turning the curve in the corridor, he finally saw it.

The asari saw him.

"YOU WILL DIE!"

He opened fire as she flared up, bullets striking the biotic barrier that surrounded her. A moment later, he stepped back quickly as a pulse of blue went flying towards him. It missed, thanks only to his quick reflexes and the enhancements of the Mjolnir armor, and hit the wall hard enough to leave a crack in the aged plascrete. He continued to fire, but she had already moved out of the way. Creepers were beginning to unfold.

_Good position,_ he thought to himself, ceasing fire and stepping back for a moment. The creepers were forced to funnel into the narrow opening, where his machine gun could easily rip through the concentrated masses. The only problem would come if they had enough numbers- the damn things ignored bullets like a brute on a rampage. That asari could be a problem, too. He counted down in his head. _2... 1..._

His gun cooled, Jorge stepped out and unloaded into the half-dozen creepers that were in various stages of attempting to reach him. Holes appeared in the first rank before continuing to the second. The creepers themselves, while not thrown off their feet as with shotgun blasts, were noticeably slowed, but even so they doggedly made headway up until their torsos were nothing more than a goopy mess. Jorge's real advantage was the power of the weapon he wielded- while the large, bulky gun was difficult to maneuver, when presented with a straight shot, it did good damage- and then kept going, doing fair damage to the next creeper in line as well. Creepers attempting to swarm him through the narrow corridor actually worked in his favor, so long as he could destroy them before they got to him.

"RRRAAAAGGGHHH!"

The asari, on the other hand was another matter entirely.

Jorge could practically see the fire in the green-skinned asari's eyes as she unleashed a singularity towards him, ignoring the remaining creepers that it picked up along the way. Jorge dodged again, but the singularity was close. He felt the forces on him, attempting to drag him towards the wall, and had to lean away slightly to maintain his balance. On the other hand, the gun in his hands felt much lighter now. That was nice, for once.

The asari charged with a war cry, attempting to press what little advantage she had, a new wave of creepers hot on her heels. Jorge held down the trigger, but her barriers weren't going down fast enough- the glowing woman, her weapon abandoned, had cocked back a glowing fist with obvious intent just as warnings blared across his visor, telling him his gun was overheating. The asari reached him and attempted to punch him through a wall with a biotically-powered fist.

Unfortunately for her, a one ton, fully armored Spartan is much faster than one would think is possible. He blurred back a step, allowing her punch to hit nothing but air and the biotic discharge to completely miss him. Then he jammed the red-hot barrel of his gun into her gut and used it to lift and slam her into the wall. Ignoring the heat status indicator, he pulled the trigger. The asari immediately went limp, ichor dripping from her abdomen.

Jorge didn't have time to feel satisfaction at her death. There were still four creepers rushing towards them, and his gun needed to cool off. He rifled through his options; he could retreat, and wait for his gun to cool, but that would likely take too long and would expose his compromised teammates to attack. He could keep firing his weapon, but the creepers were closing fast, and his gun would likely take damage; a barrel warp at this point would destroy his efficiency for the rest of the mission, a risk that shouldn't be taken unless there were no other options left. No, there was only one option, one which Jorge had used a startling amount this mission: close-quarters combat.

Raising his gun horizontally across the hallway, Jorge surged forward into the creepers, using the bottom of the gun like a battering ram. The creepers, all five of them now, stood no chance against the strength of the armored behemoth as he pushed them back into the anchor chamber. With one final push, he sent them sprawling. His gun still not quite cool enough for him to consider using yet, Jorge viciously stomped on the nearest one with his armored foot. Once on the hips, crushing the fake pelvis; once on the chest, crushing the fake ribcage; and the final for the head, crushing any hope the creature had of getting back to its feet. The mass, oozing black ichor, began to quickly break down, the body becoming an unrecognizable paste in a matter of seconds.

Red blossomed on his motion tracker.

Jorge was already stepping back, not bothering with the sight he had already seen so many times this day. Instead, he began firing bursts into the creepers that were beginning to get to their feet, blasting one right back to the ground. Slowly backing towards his chokepoint, Jorge continued firing short bursts at the creepers, keeping them from gaining and pulverizing one back to the goop from whence it came.

A red do was nearing him, from his right side. Too close to hit with his gun. Though he had an idea of what he could do. Reaching back with one hand, he grabbed the approaching creeper and threw it with all his considerable might at the three hole-ridden creepers that were attacking from the front, bowling them over. Another victory he did not have time to enjoy, as he whipped around in time to catch another creeper with the barrel of his gun and fill it with holes.

In truth, even surrounded and outnumbered, the Spartan had the advantage. His gun could destroy a creeper given enough shots. His motion sensor allowed him to see enemy threats before they could close the range. And any that did manage to get within his reach quickly found that he was every bit as strong as his massive frame suggested. While Jorge would never consider combat 'easy', considering that he was usually being attacked by much faster, stronger, and more heavily armed opponents, this kind of combat was practically a vacation. His armor might not agree as much- the acid from numerous creepers was starting to leave his paint job rather thin and his armor slightly pockmarked.

Still, once the creepers were taken care of, it was easy enough to wire up the det cord and the last five of the breaching charges. In truth, Jorge didn't want to use the last of his larger charges, but it was the only guaranteed way to destroy the monstrous anchor. _Hmph. Who knows, maybe this will be the last anchor_. With that happy thought, he moved to the doorway he had come from, activated his omni, and detonated the charges.

Jorge grinned under his helmet as he was treated to another orange lightshow. After a quarter century of combat, he had found that while what he did was extremely destructive and filled with death, but there were times when his job was oddly beautiful as well. This was one such time; the curling orange flames danced outwards in a half-circle, licking and snaking through the air as though they had a life of their own. Like the Covenant Corvette that brewed up so long ago on Reach, like the countless dropships that would blossom into purple and orange fireworks, each painting was vivid and unique in its own way.

The deaths of those who were on board may be gruesome, or they may have been quick and painless. Either way, Jorge chose to ignore such thoughts and focus on the beauty of what he saw before his eyes.

The fireball faded, as all things must, revealing the blackened mess that was the anchor. Like the others, it was now significantly smaller, but still held. Compromised, but not destroyed. One slow second passed, then two. Hope died within him as the creature remained, unmoving.

*_snap*_

The Thorian let out a moaning cry, and sank nearly a foot. A tentacle snaked out of its hole, falling limply into the depths as Jorge rushed to the edge.

*_snap*_

_*snap*_

Jorge grinned as the tentacles, now strained beyond their limits holding the multi-ton creature suspended above the depths of the building, began to snap. The Thorian gave out what Jorge thought of as a desperate moan as it sank nearly a dozen feet.

*_SNAP*_

The tentacle nearest him had been stretching, and had now reached its breaking point. The multi-ton anchor, now reduced to nothing more than a tentacle with a blackened end, whipped viciously against the wall at the far side of the room. Before him, the Thorian began a long free fall.

Jorge grinned beneath his helmet. Victory tasted ever so sweet, even when it was not complete. Long years of fighting battles against the Covenant had taught him to savor each one, no matter how small and insubstantial. Hefting his gun, Jorge turned to head back to Shepard.

_*splat*_

….. _What was that?_

-{()}-

_Pain._

_Lonelinesssolitudealonepain._

_Hard. Hurt. Feelings._

_Focus on the feelings._

_Alone. Pain. No, pain gone. Hard now._

_Focus._

_Focus on what?_

_Focus. Focus on... memories._

_Childhood. Green fields. Blue people... asari? Mother. Friends. School_

_Maidenhood. Huntress. Training. Mind- biotics! Power. _

_Matriarch Benezia. Oath of Service. Protect. Explore._

_Alien- bird- Saren! Spectre. Wrong path. Guidance..._

_Sovereign. Slave._

_Creature- Thorian. Bargain. Mindlink. Enslaved._

_Freed?_

Her body, moving on its own impulses, stopped on her hands and knees as that one thought ran through her mind.

"I'm... free?" Her voice! It said what she wanted it to!

Thoughts slowly began to make sense to her. Her mind was now her own again- the link with the Thorian had been severed. The conditioning- Indoctrination!- she had been subjected to with Sovereign had been broken.

For the first time in nearly a year, her thoughts were her own.

It was amazing just how free she felt. Even if she was paralyzed right now, she would still cry and thank the Goddess for saving her from her nightmare.

She was free!

The next second she was on her back, seeing stars as her scalp was painfully hit into the floor. Trying to get her eyes to focus, she realized her side was painful now too.

"**Identify yourself**."

The voice caused her to look for the source, and she found it readily enough right next to her. A shin, armored, nearly as thick around as her torso. Following it up, she saw a heavily armored...something. It was all angles and hard lines, no graceful subtlety of the asari, nor the utilitarianism of the Salarians. No, this was something that a krogan would wear- thick, heavy, and simple. But it wasn't a krogan- she could see no hump. The helmet was a forest green, with an orange-red visor that she found unsettling staring down at her. No, this was the newest race to join the galactic community, despite the armor- a human. Though from her position and his size, it seemed as though he was the largest human in the galaxy.

He would be hard to overcome. His armor was as likely as heavy as it was thick. Her biotics would be effective, but would not be enough to stop such a heavily armored man. And if the machine gun he held, casually pointing near her head, was any indication, he was extremely strong. His armor showed wear- the paint was ragged, pockmarked in some places- he was no stranger to combat. Worse yet, she was unarmed and in a position of vulnerability. She could die, or submit.

This flashed through her mind in the blink of an eye. Wait- how did she know all that?

Ah, right, Asari Commando training. Now, back to the human. Name... name...

"My name is Shiala."

"**Why are you here?"**

"I was enslaved by the Thorian as a part of Saren's bargain wi-"

Shiala felt her scalp slammed painfully back into the floor. But she ignored the pain, and instead tried to fearfully fathom why the giant human had shoved the barrel of his machine gun under her chin. She could do nothing except breathe without dying.

"**What did you say about Saren?"** he demanded. She calmly took a deep breath through her teeth before beginning.

"I was enslaved to the Thorian as a part of Saren's bargain with it. He needed me to link to the Thorian and act as a bridge between it and himself," she managed to get out through her grit teeth. "Through me, it gave Saren knowledge that would allow him to interpret the beacons. In return, the Thorian would receive my body, allowing it to create stronger creatures to serve its will."

Shiala held her breath. It was the truth, the whole truth. She never wanted to lie, or to hurt another innocent again. If this was the end of her life, then so be it. Though the Goddess knew she wanted to do so much more, if he allowed her to.

The pressure under her jaw left, allowing her to tilt her head and open her mouth.

"**Roll over. Put your hands behind your head. Flare and I will kill you.**"

Not very talkative. Still, she was alive, and his directions were very specific. Shiala complied, rolling over on her stomach and placing her hands behind her scalp. A heavy weight descended on her back- something vaguely boot-shaped, though it reached across her entire back. She heard ripping, felt the forces he exerted as he tore something off of her. Then the boot was gone, quickly replaced by a knee. Her hands were roughly grabbed and forced to the small of her back, where they were tied together- no doubt using straps from her own Commando outfit. The weight left for an instant. Then she was yanked to her feet. She staggered slightly, disoriented and unused to the motions after being trapped in the Thorian's pod for several days.

"**Move. Flare and I kill you.**"

Stumbling slightly forward, pushed by a firm, gigantic hand, Shiala moved slowly and without question. Whoever this man was, he was not someone to be taken lightly.

-{()}-

Jorge kept a close eye on the asari he was escorting to the group. To be honest, the only reason he hadn't shot first was because she was unarmed, and she was purple, not green. But then she had mentioned Saren... and how he had used her to transfer information that could interpret the beacons. All of a sudden she had far more value alive than anyone except Shepard.

This could be the completion of the original mission. If they could extract whatever she had given Saren, they could use it to track his next move, find out what he was after.

Then they could kill the son of a bitch.

Passing through the corridor, Jorge saw Shepard and the team at the end of the room. Williams still looked to be out of it, though she was conscious now. Wrex appeared to have gotten over his disorientation and was looking approvingly down the hole where the Thorian had fallen. Shepard was fussing over Williams.

"Commander," he called out. He put an armored hand on the shoulder of the asari, forcing her to stop. So far, she hadn't resisted. That didn't mean she wouldn't though; he needed to stay on guard. And remain in control of the situation. For that reason, he did not remove the massive hand from her shoulder. Intimidation was as powerful as any gun if used correctly.

"Who's this? " Shepard asked. "Good work on the Thorian by the way."

"Shiala. An asari who worked for Saren. Claimed she was given to the Thorian by Saren in exchange for information."

"Oh really?" Shepard said thoughtfully. "So, tell me. What was Saren after? What information did you give him?"

Shiala's head bowed slightly- respect?

"Commander Shepard. I was hoping it would be you. The beacon gave both you and Saren information, knowledge of the Protheans. But the message was incomplete. It was meant for a Prothean mind. The Thorian was a means to an end; it was alive when the Protheans created their empire. It watched them, studied them, and when they died, it consumed them. It has the Cipher- the essence of the Protheans, knowledge of their culture and language. I used my mind-link to bridge the gap between the Thorian and Saren, giving him the Cipher, allowing him to understand the message held within the beacons. I offer the same for you."

"Why give me the information? I thought you were working for Saren."

"I follow... followed Matriarch Benezia. But no longer. Please, Commander, this is the only way to defeat Saren. Allow me to tell my story."

Jorge could see the decision taking place behind her transparent visor.

"Jorge, go check on Williams," she commanded.

"Ma'am?"

"I need to talk with our friend here. Alone."

"Yes ma'am," Jorge replied uncertainly. He hesitantly released his charge before slowly stepping around them towards Williams against the wall. But he kept a watch on who he considered a dangerous prisoner. Shepard was having none of it though. Even close to Williams, Shepard apparently wasn't satisfied with the distance. She and her shotgun took Shiala off towards the opposite end of the concrete-grey room.

"I swear she makes life hard on purpose," he grumbled. If Shiala suddenly had a change of heart it would take him at least three seconds to respond and run to where they were. Three seconds was a long time in an ambush situation.

"I swear she does too."

Jorge set his machine gun down and kneeled next to Williams, taking off his helmet as he did so. With her helmet off, they looked eye to eye, though she still had to tilt her head up.

"How you doing there, Gunny?" he asked. A gentle armored hand came up and cradled her head as he checked her for signs of concussion. Williams weakly batted it away.

"Feel like shit. And naked," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Without the ceramic plate, only the skin-tight undersuit remained covering the area from her shoulders to her waist. It left very little to the imagination.

Jorge brought up his omni and scanned her- the suit had died with the chest plate, the power core and central computing core contained within the backplate of the armor having been abandoned along with the chestplate. Without the central computer, the only way to read her vitals was with the short range medical program his omni was equipped with. Heart rate, blood pressure, adrenaline levels, salt levels, everything that could affect combat ability that could be measured with a simple, soldier-proofed tool.

Currently it was telling him Williams was slightly dehydrated and had some low blood sugar levels, but other than that she was fine.

"Shepard given you some juice?" he asked. She nodded, then hit her head against the wall in frustration. He chuckled at that.

"Just relax, Gunny," Jorge told her, giving her a small smile. She gave him a thin smile of her own back.

"Yea, back to the ship where everyone can see I lost my armor," she said with sarcasm. Ah, that was it.

"If you're going by volume, I'm pretty sure Wrex lost more than you," Jorge grinned. It was true. Those creepers had done a number on the old krogan. The only reason he was still standing was because of a combination of medi-gel, sheer stubbornness, and a mass nearly four times the human woman he was currently talking to.

Williams snorted and mumbled under her breath.

"Think of it as an opportunity. Now you get an upgrade," Jorge told her. Heavens knew he was still waiting for a Mjolnir Mark V to get into. Hell, by the time they got him into a V, everyone else would already be on Mark VIs.

"I liked my Pheonix III armor," she pouted. Jorge just chuckled as Williams acted like a little girl who had her favorite toy taken away.

"Op Chief!"

Jorge's head snapped to where Shepard and Shiala were. He noted with a combination of alarm and aggravation that Shiala's hands were no longer restrained in a safe position.

"I need to meld with Shiala to get the Cipher, so don't overreact, got it?" Shepard shouted at him from across the room.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Commander!" he shouted back. Williams nodded her agreement.

"Your objection has been noted. Now don't do anything, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"There she goes again, ignoring all our advice," Williams commented bitterly. Jorge had to agree. But then again she was the commander.

Together, he and Williams watched as the asari melded with their commanding officer. After a few moments, it appeared the meld was done and Shepard collapsed to her knees while Shiala wobbled on her feet. But Shepard got back up quick enough. And headed for the squad.

"Come on, let's get you on your feet, soldier," Jorge said, heaving Williams to her feet. Together, the squad plus Shiala headed back the way they came, through the foul-smelling mess that was the creepers, back to the colony and the _Normandy_.

-{()}-

Sooo…. Yea. That took a little bit longer than expected.

I'm not dead yet, I swear. Work was part of it, a lack of motivation was as well, but a good chunk was the sheer size. Tipping the scales at just over 11,000 words, this is the longest chapter I've ever written, I believe. I hope you enjoyed it, I really do. Given the way I wrote this chapter, Noveria is going to be a long chapter too. Hooray.

Anyways, the next chapter should come out a bit sooner- I don't plan on writing something this long for the next chapter.

Also, answer to Flamingcheesepie's anonymous question; Noble team is made up _mostly_ of Spartan III's- Six included. However, Jorge is a Spartan II, and was for some reason assigned to the squad. So Jorge is a II, everyone else is a III.

As usual, thank you all for reading my humble story. I hope you enjoyed it.


	20. Chapter 18- Downtime After Feros

The debriefing was… interesting. Liara had done some freaky stuff to Shepard. No matter what anyone said, Jorge was very uncomfortable with the Asari's racial ability to read another's mind, even if it was only from close proximity. Such ability theoretically made hiding things impossible, something Jorge found very disturbing considering that everything about him had been top secret until decades into a major war. The fact that they also used the same process for procreation only made it stranger.

As… uneasy as Jorge was about the whole process, he could not deny the effect it had on Shepard. After melding with Liara, she was far more at ease. Tension in her face that even he hadn't noticed was gone. It really appeared that Liara's offer to help organize her mind and make sense of the vision had helped.

The real problem was that there were still no leads on Saren. Shiala had been immensely helpful and descriptive, but she had never been told any major details of Saren's plans or the locations of his base. All she could do was tell them about his ship.

It was called _Sovereign_, and based on the description she had given it was the same one he, Williams, Shepard and Kaiden had seen on Eden Prime. But more disturbing was her description of what it could do. A ship that could influence minds, gradually turning them into willing slaves of Saren. Something powerful enough to sway an Asari Matriarch, one of the most powerful and most disciplined creatures in the known galaxy, to his side. While it was simultaneously brainwashing her retinue of highly-trained asari commandos as well. If someone had asked him before Feros if he believed in such a thing, he would have scoffed at them. Mind control? From a ship? Hmph. But after dealing with the Thorian… and the brainwashed colonists… and all the other strange things he had seen… he was willing to give Shiala the benefit of the doubt.

But for all the information they had, it still left them no closer to getting to Saren. He had vanished like a ghost. Between the need to get new armor for Wrex and Williams, as well as refurbish his own Mjolnir and Shepard's own armor, the next destination was set: The Citadel. In the meantime, however, he had other things to worry about.

Jorge lay on the medical bed, his body in the scanning chamber and his feet dangling well off the end as Dr. Chakwas continued to examine him. After the debriefing, Chakwas had insisted that everyone who had come into contact with the creepers (the entire ground team) should be examined for fitness and lingering effects. Jorge was the last, as his armor took so long to get off. He was not, however, alone. Williams was impatiently waiting on a bed and Liara was catching a light nap on another diagnostic bed. Wrex, surprisingly, had apparently allowed himself to be treated by the good doctor rather than simply letting his natural healing processes take over. From his research on krogans, such action seemed contrary to their temperaments. Then again, Wrex had subverted quite a few of Jorge's expectations for krogan- maybe he should stop expecting other species to perform to their racial stereotypes. Humans didn't always follow them after all.

Jorge's thoughts were interrupted as the bed moved out of the scanning chamber, allowing him to sit upright again as she turned to face him.

"Well, it looks like the spores in your bloodstream are well on their way out," Doctor Chakwas told him with a smile. "It looks like you had the worst of the ground team, but the levels are still far below the threshold level Exo-Geni provided us. According to their research, the spores should be naturally filtered out of your blood over the course of the next few hours."

"No side effects?" he asked with trepidation. The fact that he had been infected at all worried him.

"Not according to the research. The spores need to reach a certain concentration before they begin to change the body and mind, beyond that they appear quite harmless. It took more than a week of constant exposure to affect the colonists, a few hours was not enough to cause much of anything. You are still quite fit for duty Jorge," she assured him with a warm smile.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Of course. Now, as for you, Gunnery Chief…"

Jorge stood and walked out of the medical bay to the motherly voice of Doctor Helen Chakwas chiding a groaning Williams about scratching her healing acid burns. As the doors closed behind him, he headed for the galley to get a small meal, he had missed lunch along with the rest of the ground team because of the mission. He was not alone in that regard.

Kaiden Alenko sat, preoccupied, stirring the food around the heating tray as he stared at it. It wasn't hard to see the man was bothered by something.

With that in mind, Jorge grabbed the first tube of nutri-paste he could before sitting down across from the man. Alenko didn't even notice.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jorge said quietly. It was enough to startle the man into looking up at him, and Jorge saw the hesitation and tiredness in his eyes before he went back to staring at his food.

Jorge waited. It was best not to rush these things, if there was time. Countless civilians had taught him that. Instead, he ate his meal, slowly and quietly eating the nutri-paste, neither rushing the man nor letting him forget the question. Alenko remained silent, pushing his food around in spurts, eating occasionally. Finally his non-fork hand clenched into a fist.

"Shepard… we… we killed the Thorian today," Alenko began. "A completely unique life-form with a rare ability that was older than the Protheans themselves. It probably had- no, it DID have unique knowledge and understanding of the Prothean culture and way of life. And we killed it."

"Would you have preferred it lived?"

"That's the worst part. I would have killed it too. An hour into first contact, my commanding officer kills a brand new species, probably commits GENOCIDE given how rare it is… and I can't help but agree with her."

He snorted.

"I know you were down there fighting those creepers and nearly getting killed. I almost wish I were with you. Whatever you did, it riled the colonists up. They all woke up and started screaming and thrashing, all at once, like someone threw a switch. Whatever it was doing to them, it hurt- most of them were crying. One woman nearly bit her tongue in half. I was watching over one room when a young woman managed to tear an arm free. But she couldn't free herself. Whatever the Thorian was doing to her, she couldn't even think about getting herself free. All she did was pound her head and scream in pain. I managed to wrestle her back into her restraints with Garrus helping and tried to put her down with a tranquilizer. I gave her enough to put out a horse, and she was still moving around when I finished treating her hand for the bite she had given herself."

"Then it all just… cut, at once. No fits of thrashing, no screams of pain. Silence. Most of them passed out, but one didn't. He just relaxed, looked at me, and said, 'it's over'. Then he started crying again, tears of joy this time, while he just kept repeating those words over and over. That must have been when you killed the Thorian."

Jorge hadn't had time yet to read the full report yet, considering that Shepard was still in the process of putting it together. He had had no idea what the other half of the ground team had been doing. From the sounds of it, there had been no external attacks, no Geth to fight, no creepers… just the madness of the colonists. It was a special kind of hell for a soldier to have an enemy that could not be fought. To be completely helpless in the face of an enemy, even though you know you are fully prepared to respond to any physical threats. Jorge had had the unfortunate experience of such things as well, though never something such as this. No, he had mostly been tortured over the radio, listening to countless last stands or the screams of civilians. He didn't envy the Lieutenant.

"Is it wrong?" Alenko asked quietly to his food. "Is… is it wrong that I wanted you to kill the Thorian… to commit genocide?"

Now that was a question Jorge could answer.

"No."

Alenko looked up at the firmness of that statement. Jorge took the opportunity to lean forward.

"No, it's not wrong. You, me, Shepard, we did what we had to do. We found a threat far greater than we could have ever imagined, something that could control us like a puppet. Something that was forcing civilians to fight us. Something that refused to negotiate and attacked us with everything it had."

He took a breath as he gathered his thoughts.

"There are some things out there that will not talk or play nice with us. There are only two choices against such an enemy: surrender, or fight. When it comes down to that, Lieutenant, I will fight to the bitter end, because I am a soldier and it is my job to make sure humanity survives another day. The Thorian was an abomination that mind-controlled a human colony, aided a known enemy, and attempted to kill us. At the end of the day, it was either the Thorian, or us. No one's going to blame you for making the choice to kill the Thorian."

"But what about the Council? I mean, we're supposed to be building a galactic society here…." He trailed off.

"There will always be someone who thinks you're wrong. They don't matter. We were there. We saw what you saw. We made the choice. And we'll always cover your back, no matter what."

A faint smile flickered on the Lieutenant's features.

"Now you're starting to sound like Shepard," he joked. The smile faded off his face.

"Thanks. I… I needed to hear that. Guess I just need a little time to accept what we just did."

"Take your time, Lieutenant. We did what we had to do. Personally, I think we made the right choice sending that damn thing on a one-way trip to hell."

_Sure wish it was that easy to send the Covenant to the same place._

-{()}-

Maintenance was a fact of life for any soldier, in any field. Weapons needed to be maintained, oiled and cleaned so that they would fire smoothly and accurately when needed. Tools needed to be checked- batteries, pliers, rifle scopes, anything that a soldier took into the field. Armor needed to be maintained, oiled and cleaned just as any rifle would be. Any break in this routine would mean that the weapons, the tools, the armor that a soldier trusted their life to would not be at their best, a chancy proposition in the middle of a battlefield.

After a battle like the one he had gone through on Feros, with his armor shot at by Geth, by humans, and then vomited upon by abominations in the shape of humans, Jorge's armor and weaponry were in dire need of maintenance.

Fortunately, Shepard knew this as well and had put in her report. Hackett had sent him a message no more than thirty seconds ago telling him that materials and techs would be waiting for them at the Citadel to fix his armor. While these people may not be technicians from his home universe who had worked extensively with the technology for decades, he did trust in their abilities to buff out scratches and fill in voids, which was the only true damage that had happened. The worst was the underlayer, as while it had been only barely damaged, and not enough to compromise integrity, it was also unfixable until someone in this universe invented the titanium weave and reactive liquid metal crystal layer that the undersuit contained.

So Jorge could put away his armor that he had started buffing and focus on the custom gun and make certain it was in the proper care. He hadn't been too gentle with it this last mission, between dropping it, using it as a battering ram and as a makeshift melee weapon. He really needed to remember that this kind of tech was a bit more delicate than the purely mechanical tech of his universe. Tali had already fixed his gun once after a mission, though it had yet to stop working, for which he was very thankful.

He had just started putting his Mjolnir away when the cargo elevator doors opened. Hefting a greave over to the storage chest, he saw Williams step out, lost in thought. When he returned to the workbench, she was there, staring at his Grenadier chest plate, lost in thought.

"You alright, Williams?"

She jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound behind her.

"For God's sake, Jorge, warn a girl, would you?!" she demanded as she tried to slow her racing heart. He chuckled.

"Sorry," he apologized with a grin. She gave him a glare before lightly punching his arm. "So, you alright?"

"Well enough," she said with a sigh. "Doc treated me for some of the minor acid burns, and the spores from the thing should just go away, I guess. According to Chakwas I won't even have a scar to show for it. " She snorted. "Unlike my armor."

"It saved your life, Gunney. It did what it was supposed to do," he told her as he grabbed the other greave and a boot/shin. He stored them and made his way back to find Williams struggling with the other boot/shin. He wasn't surprised- the titanium alloy, even just one plate, was a significant weight. The heavy duty Grenadier boot/shin combo she was trying to manhandle probably weighed near eighty pounds by itself.

"What the heck is this thing made of?" she asked. He grabbed the other end of the piece, easily helping her to carry the piece over to storage.

"Classified."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Aw, come on, please?"

"No."

"Fine, be that way."

Jorge merely chuckled as they walked back over to the workbench. He grabbed another piece and made another run- Williams didn't. Instead, he found her staring at his armor when he returned.

"Creepers managed to destroy my armor," she mused, staring at his breastplate. "Chestplate, power source, shields, computer- all gone. Total loss of the suit. Wrex's armor looked like swiss cheese once Chakwas finally managed to pull it off- he needs a complete replacement. Shepard's wasn't as bad as that, but after she took it off it practically fell apart- structure had been compromised beyond repair, so she needs a new set too. You go in there, take the same shit from the creepers we took, and all your armor has to show for it is that it needs some buffing and a new paint job." She turned to look at him. "And no offence, but the toughest armor I've ever seen looks like it was designed by a krogan then customized by…. well, I guess a completely different krogan. That was half blind."

Jorge grunted his assent at the last statement. His armor was never what one would call pretty. The custom mis-matched shoulder pads, the shield he had welded on to the upper chest plate on the left side, the angular and bulky chest piece- no, compared to the form-hugging ceramics of the armors here, Jorge would be winning no beauty contests. Still, it was his, and after the effort he had put into customizing it and the time he had spent in it, it had grown on him. Oh, sure, he would upgrade if they gave him a new set of armor, but the fact they hadn't yet meant that they either agreed he was effective with the Mark IV or that they didn't have a Mark V available for him, so it was a moot point anyways.

"The Mjolnir is a heavy-duty next-gen prototype that never saw general production," he told her. "It wasn't built to look good, it was built to hold everything it needed and have the armor thickness to protect a soldier, looks be damned. Even so, I had to add a few things. Both the shoulder pads are custom, so is the up-armor on the chestplate."

"So, any chance we'll be seeing some of that prototype toughness?"

"Not for a few years at the very least."

"Wish I had some," Williams said bitterly. Jorge gave a short laugh.

"I've met precious few soldiers that _want_ to get shot at!"

"Wha… no, I don't want to get shot at, I want to stop being useless!" she told him quickly.

"You aren't useless."

"Come on; who was the one who nearly died last mission?"

"Doesn't mean you were useless."

"Bullshit."

Jorge took a moment to step back and think of what to say next. Williams was obviously feeling inadequate, which wasn't all that hard when she was judging herself against someone who had been trained since childhood to become a super-soldier.

"Why do you think you're here?" he asked her seriously. She snorted.

"'Cuz Jenkins got himself killed and I was the only replacement. 'Cuz Shepard's a softie when saying 'No' to people who want to join her crew."

"Anderson was the one who transferred you."

Silence reigned for a moment.

"He saw a soldier; someone tough as nails, with the weapon skills that he needed and an unbreakable will. You came to us because you survived something that wiped out the rest of your unit, and you stayed with Shepard because it's where you belong." He turned to her.

"It's NOT your job to be the heavy hitter or the bullet soak, like me or Wrex. You aren't here for biotics or tech skills, like Tali or Alenko. You're here because we need someone who knows their way around a gun. Someone who can adapt to any combat situation, at any time. Someone who can take a few hits and keep going. You are that soldier, Williams. Shepard relies upon you to be the dependable gun she can fall back on, and you're damn good at it."

Williams was silent for a fair few seconds before she spoke.

"What good is a soldier who fails?" she asked.

"You didn't fail. You've never failed. You survived every mission she's asked you to go on. You have completed every objective Shepard has given you."

"I should have died last mission," she said morosely. Jorge did a quick count in his head.

"Williams, you were ambushed by fifteen creepers and an asari. At once. And there were at least three more on the way. You did good; you took on a few of them long enough for support to arrive, and you survived the encounter. You did your best. No one can ask for more."

She snorted at that. "Jorge, you aren't support, you're a wrecking crew."

Silence reigned for long seconds.

"Williams, you're a damn fine soldier. You belong here on the _Normandy_."

Grabbing another piece of his armor, Jorge left the workbench. When he came back for another piece, Williams was quietly reading an old hardcover Bible by her locker, lost in thought.

-{()}-

*_Operations Chief Kadar to the Commander's quarters.*_

They were thirty minutes out from the Citadel, stuck behind some civilian traffic through the relays. Without a pressing need to get to the Citadel, the _Normandy_ wasn't using SPECTRE clearance and as such was stuck behind the normal military and civilian traffic in line to use the relay.

Such a summons so close to making port seemed unusual.

The freight elevator was slow as usual. The doors slid open as he approached the Commander's cabin, allowing him inside to her private quarters. What he saw only confused him.

Shepard was pacing like a caged tiger. On her face was an intense frown, the kind that shows not only disapproval but extreme disappointment. The kind that Halsey had been known to wear when things were not up to her expectations. Jorge snapped to attention. This couldn't be good. Shepard looked up from her pacing, her eyes meeting his.

"Computer, de-activate all recording devices in this room and seal the doors, authorization Shepard- Bravo Lima Two Five." Her voice was tightly controlled, but experience with his fellow Spartans allowed Jorge to read into her mood. She was angry.

_Command confirmed. All recording devices de-activated. Door sealed against intrusions_.

She continued to study his face. He stood even stiffer, his face a mask of professionalism. She turned away.

"At ease, Jorge. I am not angry at you, and I am not here to punish or otherwise berate you."

Jorge uncertainly fell to parade rest. She didn't even turn around.

"I was trying to distract myself by reading some more of your report," she told him, hands clasped behind her back. "I read through the part about your training. And your recruitment."

She turned to him suddenly.

"Six years old? _Kidnapping six-year old kids?!_ Then training them like soldiers?" she demanded. He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a warning glare.

"I'm not mad at you, Jorge. No, you're just as much a victim as I was. No, I blame Halsey, and I blame this 'Office of Naval Intelligence'."

Jorge's mouth twitched, a sign of his own anger at the slander of Halsey. Shepard noticed, but her eyes showed she wasn't backing down.

"What was done to you, to the other Spartans, was monstrous. I understand her reasons for starting the Spartan II program, at least as much as you've told us. I understand that you thought it was necessary. I disagree. Strongly. In my mind there is nothing, _nothing_, that can justify stealing children and turning them into child-soldiers. The worst part is, you barely know why I object."

Jorge opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He wasn't sure whether he could- she claimed that she wasn't giving him a dressing-down, but it sure as hell sounded like it.

"Dammit, Jorge, spit it out!" she practically shouted at him.

"The Spartan-II project gave the UNSC it's only real chance to prevent civil war! In the war against the Covenant, the Spartans were the only force capable of causing significant damage to the enemy, MA'AM!"

"Don't give me that ma'am crap right now. This is you and me having a heart-to-heart about the damn ethics of _child-soldiers_. And I want your honest opinion right now, Jorge. Was it worth it? Getting kidnapped from your family and home to be pressed into service at the age of six? Then watching nearly half of those augmented, _your best friends_, _die_ because of someone's _obsession_ to get the perfect soldier?!"

Jorge did not answer immediately; he was busy calming himself down. His hands were fists clenched against his sides, opening and closing with immense force to try to relieve his own anger and aggravation. Because he had had the same questions as Shepard had, once upon a time. Was it worth it? Having a government agency kidnap him and train him to kill from such an early age? To undergo an experimental procedure to make him a better soldier, only to find that half his friends, the only family he knew because he had been torn from his biological family, were now gone from the world because of the procedure? He had asked himself these questions long ago, as those who hadn't survived had been honored. Was it worth it? Did the ends really justify the means? He hadn't known at the time, and had put it out of his mind, burying such thoughts under his grief and duty.

Then the Covenant had happened. And the civil war that the Spartans were originally meant to fight had happened, sporadically. They were called in to handle the situation. And they had performed beyond the wildest expectations of anyone involved, with the exception of a very smug Halsey. Insurrectionists were brought into line before trouble could start. The Covenant were stymied wherever the Spartans were deployed. The price to create a Spartan was extremely high; the price of the assets and troops they had destroyed was far, far higher.

It had been worth it. Maybe Halsey had really seen the whole situation coming. Maybe she hadn't. Either way, the end had justified the means.

"Yes. It was worth it."

"Well, glad to know where you stand," she said, straightening, her arms crossed over her chest. Anger drained from her face like water, leaving weariness. "And you already know where I stand. I may not agree with it, but it doesn't matter now. Past is past. All that matters is what we can do about it."

For a few moments, silence reigned.

"With all due respect, ma'am, you make it sound like all my childhood was wasted in drills and firing ranges."

"That's sure what it sounded like from your report. Though you were admittedly light on details," she frowned. It was Jorge's turn to grin.

"There were a lot of drills. There was a lot of soldiering. But it wasn't as bad as you make it sound. I had my fellow Spartans, my brothers and sisters. I had Halsey. She may have been a real bitch sometimes, but she cared about us. And Mendez… sure, he was tough on us, but he was tough on us because it was his job, not because he enjoyed it. He cared too. After… after the augmentations… you could tell. I'd lost brothers and sisters… but Halsey and Mendez had lost sons and daughters. They weren't some heartless officers interested just in making a supersoldier; they cared about us too."

The subject of his childhood seemed to spark her interest.

"What was it like?" she wanted to know.

"Well, most of it was military. Up at exactly 5AM, morning run, breakfast and showers, firing range, drills, so on. We had a lot of math, science, and practical training as well; a Spartan was expected to be able to master any weapon, drive any vehicle, fly any aircraft, use ballistics to set up a sniper shot, even plot basic slipspace trajectories. But the most fun, the thing we looked forward to the most, were the special missions. Every so often, Mendez would take us out of the base, usually into the wilderness somewhere. We'd have to survive on our own, sometimes separated from each other, and accomplish some objective- covert assassinations, demolition jobs, even capture the flag." He paused to smile.

"I loved those missions. I got to see my home planet. Wild forests filled with game, deserts, tundra. Heh, one of my favorites was an isolated base assault on a tropical island. We were supposed to infiltrate using diving gear, but Mendez had intentionally sabotaged some of the equipment. So we stole the equipment the observers and Mendez were using, stranded them on a different island, completed the objective, and… relaxed. For the next week, all of us had a tropical island to ourselves. We fished, caught crabs, clams… ate coconuts and drank coconut milk with fresh fruit… had water fights… we even built a pair of sand castles and used them as bases for a game of capture the flag. Good times," he finished whimsically.

"And after?" He shrugged.

"Picked up the observers and Mendez and headed back to our training facility. Got an earful and a dressing down from Mendez, but Halsey just sat off to the side with a smug smirk on her face while she listened to the complaints of the observers. We had a few days of disciplinary workouts after that, but nothing we couldn't handle."

"And you enjoyed it?"

"Every minute of it, ma'am. My childhood may have been tough, but we went through it because it was necessary, and because we believed it was necessary. We all did. Not a single one of us would have done things differently."

"Well, I'm glad you at least had some fun."

Silence reigned for a few moments.

"I've got a mission for you, Jorge. One that may well be the most difficult mission you've ever taken. But before I tell you, there are some… things… you should know about me."

"I was born and raised in the slums on Earth. My mother was a drug addict and later a hooker. My father was a gang member, later killed fighting a rival gang. I was inducted into a gang when I was eight years old, and I never went back to my family. I killed a rival gang member when I was twelve over turf. I was too good to be a hooker, thank god, though I'd still lost my virginity by the time I was fourteen. No, I worked the streets, selling drugs on street corners- no one suspects the little girl when the cops come rolling by. Course, that wasn't all I sold, and we'd fight with rival gangs often; turf, money, everything. Still, things come and go. The gang I was in had changed twice by the time I was eighteen, absorbed once and destroyed once. I ended up with the Tenth Street Reds."

"Things changed when I turned eighteen. Enlistment age. The gangs love to use it as training. You send someone to join the Alliance, they go through Basic, rotate out and bam, the gang now has a military-trained member. It gives an advantage during gang wars and the intimidation factor is huge. Part of the reason they had refused to give me drugs once I was fifteen- couldn't join if I couldn't pass a drug test. Lucky in that regard, I had been addicted to something called 'Ice' since I was seven. Anyways, I joined up, passed with flying colors, and got shipped off to basic. That's where things turned around."

"I… I got lucky, I guess. Part of it was that I wanted to be the best I could be, so I tried my hardest and worked my ass off. The other part was that I somehow managed to fall in with a good crowd. Instructors who actually cared about me, fellow trainees who managed to become my friends. Good people, people who actually cared about my future. They figured it out. It took some doing, but they eventually convinced me not to go back to the gang. That gang life wasn't the option I should take. So I just stayed with what was familiar, with the military. But I never really realized just how much I had missed until my second leave."

"One of my friends knew I had nowhere to go, so she invited me to stay with her for the duration of the leave. And I saw what I had missed. I was a child-soldier too, Jorge, not quite as hardcore or literal as you, but a child-soldier all the same. And I saw my friend greeting her parents, parents who loved her. I went out to a few bars with her high school friends, friends in college, childhood friends that she used to laugh and play with. She had had a good childhood, and it was then that I realized just what had happened to me. I hadn't had a normal childhood. What friends I could have had, what love I could have had, what fun I could have had, was gone, and I could never get it back. I could start, but I could never get back the years that the gangs had taken and that my parents had neglected. And that, to me, was a tragedy. Every child should have the kind of childhood Alecia Petria had. It shouldn't be taken away."

Jorge didn't know what to say to that. Her file had been lacking on her history, merely saying that she was Earth-born and had joined the military to escape the streets.

"Jorge, this is my mission to you. For the next forty-eight hours, the crew of the _Normandy_ is on leave. We're being put up in a hotel, sponsored by the Alliance, but that's not important. What _is_ important is for you to _not_ be a soldier. For the next forty-eight hours, from the moment we dock to the moment you set foot back on the ship, you are not military. You will have no armor, no weapon. You will be a civilian. I want you to figure out what that means. Gamble, drink, spin around in circles, whatever you do, you are not a soldier, you are not a Spartan, I am not your superior officer and military regs do not apply. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Shepard smiled at him, a tired smile but a genuine one.

"Good. If you want my advice, Jorge, try to have fun."

-{()}-

Hey, this one didn't take four months!

I am uncertain about this chapter. My pre-reader buddy has been busy recently, so both this chapter and the last chapter were only seen by my eyes, which is kinda bad because I don't know how people will react to how I wrote things. So I guess all I can do is listen to your feedback and modify the chapter based on that, so if you hated this chapter because of such and such, feel free to tell me.

If you liked it I'd like to hear too, so I can puff out my chest with pride. If I get enough I won't be able to fit through doorways with my big head and I'll have to write another chapter to bring down the swelling.

Also, for those of you who remember that Shepard was Earth-born? Yea… I think you can guess why.

Next stop, the Citadel! I'm sure he can survive…. Somehow….

EDIT: user alienvx0 made a comment that he was hoping for some more dialog during Shep's confrontation with Jorge about his childhood. After looking back over the chapter, I agreed, so here's a little bit more. Shoutout to the story _The Last Spartan_, by Dinojake, because that's where I got the idea for having a tropical island mission that turned into a shore leave.


	21. Chapter 19- Citadel Adventures

Jorge stood at the end of the boarding ramp, utterly still. There was no hustle or bustle as there had been earlier, for which he was thankful, as it meant there was no one around to witness his utter indecision and confusion. He was not a Spartan right now. He was not UNSC, or Alliance Military, right now. He had no armor. He had no weapons. He had no objective. And for the next forty-eight hours, this would not change. Jorge had no idea what to do with himself.

Initial docking had been hectic. Hackett's team had been waiting for him as soon as they had docked and opened the bay doors. A heavy-duty forklift had taken the crate containing his armor, and after describing in detail all the damage he knew about, the men had assured him that they would fix everything they could. He was uneasy about this, as any Spartan would be, but professional servicing of his armor had happened before with the UNSC- this would no doubt prove no different.

While his Mjolnir armor was being loaded, an Admiral had come down and run an impromptu inspection. He had examined Jorge with interest, and had asked him some very pointed questions about the aliens on board. Jorge had answered as honestly as he could, something which seemed to concern the Admiral. Shrugging it off, Jorge finished watching the men offload his armor before making his way to the main deck, forcing himself to ignore the armor locker with his Alliance-issue Onyx armor and weaponry. He found that the majority of the crew was already gone by that point, and that upon exiting to the dock, he was alone.

Where he now found himself having either a panic attack (as much as a Spartan can, at least) or a crisis of faith. Maybe both.

Jorge had trained from childhood to be a soldier. There was a routine, and it was not deviated from except in the most dire of circumstances. If there was not a routine, then he was on a mission, and that meant an objective, something he could hold in his mind as a direction to work towards. Free time… well, free time was much like this… except the only times he had ever had free time were when he was with his fellow Spartans, and even then only for a few hours at a time. Of course, Noble Team had been slightly different, what with them being Spartan IIIs. The model III's were a handful- because of the method of selecting orphans from the war, most, if not all, the III's had psychological problems, and hadn't been the type to relax. With them, there was no downtime, not even as much as the II's allowed themselves. Model III's didn't know how to relax at all, and Jorge now saw that his time with Noble had made him more hyper vigilant as well.

What had he done, when he'd had downtime? With the II's, his family, they'd played cards, sometimes they sparred a little, but most of the time they would just sit back and relax and enjoy one another's company. Usually while talking about tactics, or the next anticipated mission, though they would reminisce just as often. With the III's… well, they hadn't really done much together. They'd all go their separate ways, brooding or researching or shooting things- that had been Emile's favorite off duty activity. Whenever Jorge found himself alone in such a position, though, he'd relaxed, put on some music, and searched the archives for news about his family, his fellow Spartans. He hadn't found anything solid until near the end, when the Spartans had been declassified, but still, one could tell when a colony had received Spartan help when one knew what to look for.

He couldn't really do that now- he was the only Spartan in the universe, and there wasn't a war going on either- well, not a galactic-scale one at any rate, and not involving humanity either. He could sit in his hotel room, listen to some jazz while he continued to piece together data about Reach, but he got the impression that Shepard wanted him to be a little more social than that. Sparring was right out, the only one who could offer a challenge was Wrex and Jorge was leery of giving the krogan what he wanted. That left cards and passing the time with friends. Cards would be nice, he hadn't played since before he had joined Noble, but there wasn't anyone to play with right now- he'd need to go find Alenko and Williams, and that was assuming they wanted to play…. maybe he could try Tali or Garrus as well? They weren't exactly top on his list, but they were dependable squad mates who had earned his trust and respect- and the more the merrier, when it came to cards. Hmmm, Joker would be a good addition as well. Still…

"Hey, big man," came a familiar voice from the gangway. Joker shuffled down the ramp slowly, bracing his every step with his crutches. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Trying to decide what to do," Jorge replied slowly. Cards would be good, but it wouldn't happen until everyone got together, which likely meant once everyone headed back to the hotel for the 'night'. He still had nothing to do, no objective, right now.

"Want to go grab a beer?"

Now that was something he could do. He'd had beer, once, after pulling some marines out of a tight situation. He had to admit he'd liked the bitter beverage. And it was something to do until he could find everyone to play cards with.

"Sure."

"Cool, I know _just_ the place," Joker said with a grin. It wasn't the kind of grin that made Jorge feel comfortable, and all of a sudden he was having second thoughts about this. Then again, he couldn't think of anything else to do…

"You hear the Admiral?" Joker asked as he shuffled towards the elevator.

"The one that toured the ship?"

"Yea, him. The loud-mouth prick."

"Don't insult your superiors, Flight Lieutenant," Jorge reprimanded stiffly. But Joker just grinned as they entered the elevator.

"Shore leave began thirty seconds ago, _Jorge_. As of right now, I am an _f-r-e-e _man, and for the next two days I am not going to lift so much as a _pinkie_ in the name of paperwork," Joker crowed.

Jorge stayed silent. Even if Joker was officially not Alliance for the next two days, Jorge felt his opinion of Joker start to sour if the man was that willing to insult a superior officer when their back was turned for no reason.

"Besides, he deserved it," Joker continued in a darker tone. "He may have been talking to Shepard, but I heard! He called my baby an overdesigned waste of money with no use!"

Ah, so that was the reason.

"Then he gave Shepard a dressing down for design features she's not responsible for, and finished it off by berating her for having aliens on her crew! Dude's a prick, trust me."

"Hmm."

He knew the type. Still, the man wouldn't have made Admiral unless he had talent or skills, the military just didn't work like that. Just like Ackerson. The man was a heartless, spiteful bastard who would shoot his own mother if he thought it would help him; still, the man was cunning and he knew how to use it for the betterment of humanity. His introduction of the Spartan-III's was a game changer in the Covenant war- while they weren't as good as Jorge or the other Spartan-IIs, they were a cut above even an ODST and far easier to create and arm than Jorge or his brothers and sisters. In the end, a heartless, spiteful bastard had come in handy.

The elevator opened, allowing the two of them to shuffle out into Citadel Security headquarters. Not knowing exactly where they were going, Jorge allowed Joker to lead slightly. The pace was almost glacial with Joker's crutches, but Jorge found that the pace was nice- something to focus on.

"Sooo…. Shepard _may_ have mentioned to me that you could do some relaxing," Joker told him as he levered himself up some stairs.

"Shepard thinks I need to have fun," Jorge grumbled back.

"She's seriously right, man."

Jorge grumbled. So that was two people now who thought he needed to have fun.

"Aaaanyways, I intend to fix that up _riiiigght_ about now."

Jorge hadn't been paying particular attention to where Joker had been heading, considering that he had only been on the Citadel once before and he hadn't explored very much. That said, the sign above the doorway gave Jorge a very clear idea of where Joker was taking him.

"Chora's Den?" he asked.

"Yep!"

Jorge was not amused. Last time he had been here, he had killed several turian assassins before staging an all-out assault on the place. Considering the proprietor was gone, Jorge wondered how they had gotten it up and running again so fast.

"We're going to go in there, grab a table, grab a beer, then watch the pretty asari dance for us. Sound good?"

"No."

"Well too bad, you're doing it anyways."

Maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all. Despite these thoughts, Jorge followed the pilot into the club.

It was just as he remembered it from the first time he had walked in. Muted hues, with asari dancers highlighted in their revealing skin-tight outfits, dancing for the entertainment of patrons- personally, or as a background. Music not to Jorge's liking blared at an uncomfortable level for him, covering the sounds of the conversations around him. Men, women, and aliens lounged in tables, sipping brightly colored drinks with names Jorge did not know and did not care to find out. A krogan in light armor (relatively) stood leading to the back rooms, just as another had stood vigil there not so long ago. In the darkness of the club, not even Jorge's practiced and experienced eyes could pick out bloodstains, or bullet holes, or any other sign of battle. It was as though the fight had never truly happened.

He didn't like it. The music was too loud, covering the sounds of potential threats. The muted hues prevented detail distinction, preventing identification of targets- there was no way to tell civilian versus enemy here until it was nearly too late. There was insufficient cover, and what cover existed was typically flimsy. This was a terrible place for a soldier to be.

_Except I'm not a soldier. Not right now,_ he told himself forcefully. _ I am a civilian. In a crowd of civilians. No one is trying to kill me. I need to relax. Breathe. In, out. Focus. You can do this. _

"Damn, all the tables are full," Joker muttered, likely to himself. "Well, guess we get to stand at the bar, big guy."

A bartender noticed their arrival as they slowly made their way to the bar. The bar, midriff height on most humans and other species, was uncomfortably low for Jorge.

"What will it be?" the turian greeted with a flick of his mandibles. Jorge idly noted that he no longer reacted to such actions.

"A Sinderian Sunrise for me," Joker voiced. The bartender looked at Jorge expectantly.

"A beer."

"What kind?"

_There was more than one? _

Joker burst out laughing, nearly falling off his stool.

"Aw man, you should- hahahaha- see your face right now! Hahahaha!" he guffawed.

"Errr.. what kinds do you have?" Jorge asked, completely wrong-footed.

"Red Moon Ale, Elesthium Pale Ale, Republic Stout, New Belgium Winter Abbey…"

The bartender continued to rattle off beers as Jorge stood stiff, stunned at the choices. Joker, who had nearly recovered, had begun laughing again.

The bartender finished naming the beers they had and waited patiently for Jorge to order.

Jorge, however, had no idea what to order. He didn't know what a 'Red Moon' was, or why he cared, or why he should drink it over a 'Republic Stout'. The sheer number of choices (the bartender had rattled off almost a dozen beers) presented Jorge with a choice that he had no information for. How was he supposed to make a decision with no information? Maybe…. Maybe he could get more?

"Which tastes best?" he asked over Joker's snorting giggles.

"How should I know, I'm a turian," the bartender replied. Jorge was surprised to see he could discern that the turian was getting mildly annoyed.

"He'll have the Eden Prime Paradise," Joker cut in, much to Jorge's relief. A huge grin adorned his face as he continued to snicker lightly.

"You know, when Shepard said you'd never been on shore leave before, I thought she was exaggerating," Joker said with a huge grin.

"Did Shepard put you up to this?" Jorge asked with a groan.

"Nope, she just _happened_ to mention that you were a lonely shut-in and that you could use a drink and wouldn't it be _wonderful_ if someone could do that when I was the only person within hearing range. Total coincidence," Joker said with a shit eating grin. Jorge groaned and buried his face in a hand.

He was interrupted from his embarrassment and misery by glass being set on the countertop next to him.

"One Sinderian Sunrise and one Eden Prime Paradise," recounted the bartender in his flanged voice. Joker waved a credit chit at him, which the bartender scanned with his omni before leaving.

"Live a little; enjoy yourself!" Joker tapped his shoulder. "C'mon, work with me here, drink with me, big guy."

Jorge paused for half a second, tempted to simply walk out of the Den and head to the hotel, whereupon he would continue his personal project and not leave his room until shore leave was over. But Shepard had given him a mission, an unorthodox one to be sure, something his considerable talents as a soldier meant nothing for. Just like his aborted personal mission to bring down Saren to justice by himself, this would require skills he had rarely ever used before- in this case, socialization. There were precious few Spartans with that trait, he being one of the more social and outgoing of his brothers and sisters- and that was truly saying something. Well, he intended to make the most of this. If Shepard thought he could use this… then he'd go along with it. Adaptation was an important attribute on the battlefield. It would likely be just as important off the battlefields as well.

With that in mind, Jorge raised his head and took the beer in his hand. Joker was holding his drink up towards Jorge, as though waiting for something. Idly he noted that the drink Joker held had some lovely orange, yellow, and muted red layers to it. If that's what a sunrise looked like on some planet, he would not mind going there and witnessing it in person.

Joker was still waiting.

Copying the man's movements, Jorge held up his drink towards the man. Joker's grin grew as he gave a satisfied nod and took a swig of his drink. Jorge did the same with his beer.

The dull golden beverage was bitter and had the unique kick and flavor that all alcohol possessed. That being said, it was very different than the first and only beer he had ever had before then. It had flavor, subtle and overt tastes that Jorge did not know of. Best of all, however, it was cold, and to someone who had survived on almost nothing but water for most of his life, it was the nectar of the Gods themselves.

_I might be able to get used to this._

-{[]}-

Little more than an hour later, Jorge was nursing the dregs of his second Paradise at a table they had secured as Joker tried, once again, to get him to watch an Asari in revealing clothing dance for credits.

"C'mon, Jorge, she's about to start again. She even offered you a discount," Joker pleaded.

Jorge took the opportunity to look at said dancer, getting a glass of something at the bar. He had seen her dancing for Joker, truth be told, and she was flexible to an amazing degree. That and she somehow looked attractive to him- a figure of perfect femininity, with an ample bosom and curves in all the right places….

Jorge shook his head. What was _wrong _with him? He hadn't thought such things when she had started dancing for Joker. Was she… affecting his mind somehow?

No, that couldn't be it. Asari 'telepathy' was initiated when the brains were at ranges of less than a foot, beyond that the signals from the nervous systems were not enough to reach the other body. Movement caught his eye.

The asari had returned, about to start another private dance for Joker, but her eyes were only on Jorge. He watched, his face a mask of impassivity, as her eyes drank in his form, even going so far as to look beneath the table. Her body was leaning towards him, as though she found him irresistible. Her face had a single look, one that Jorge had never seen before in his life- Joker recognized it as 'seductive'- a small, curled, knowing grin combined with a look of innocence and the promise of hidden rewards if Jorge but dared to take a chance.

"Come sit with your friend, I'm sure you'll enjoy the show," she purred, getting down on her hands and knees into a sultry, cat-like position, her eyes still on the object of her desires.

Jorge was starting to feel uncomfortable. His pants were beginning to feel tight, specifically the crotch area, and there was an unfamiliar fire in his chest that was begging him to take her up on her offer. Only his considerable discipline kept his façade from cracking, but any other Spartan would have seen the slight twitches that signaled uncertainty and confusion. Through it all, the asari fixed him with an unidentifiable gaze (to him- any other would recognize it as 'lust') while Joker simply had a simple, encouraging smile on his face.

Faced with an enemy he did not know how to fight, abandoned by his allies and experiencing physical and mental feelings he had never felt before, Jorge did what his training dictated in such an unfamiliar and confrontational situation: retreat.

"I need another beer," he said aloud, quickly looking towards the bar. There, that was it. He got up and quickly made his way to the bartop, refusing to look back lest he be unwittingly coerced back.

"Damn, almost had him," Joker said, hitting the chair next to him lightly.

The asari looked a bit more put out. Joker rushed to salvage his entertainment.

"Hey, baby, don't worry, he's just confused. Needs a little time to himself, if you know what I mean. Trust me, he'll be back. In the meantime, though, how does third creds take your mind off things?"

She scanned the omni without looking away from the broad back of the unmistakable figure at the bar. With a sigh, she put on a fake smile and began to dance for the pilot.

"Paradise," Jorge told the bartender. The turian bartender, the very same that had served him twice before now, took the empty glass and headed off. Hunched over the too short bartop, Jorge pointedly refused to look behind him at the dancing asari or his friend.

Acknowledging them now would mean acknowledging that his feelings and his body were getting the better of his head. That his mind was not fully in control of his own body. Obedience and control were paramount for Spartans, both as a soldier and as a fact of the enhancements they embodied. Lack of obedience in a combat situation would lead to deaths. Lack of obedience of the body to the mind would also result in death. Even worse for a Spartan- the augmentations pushed Jorge's body beyond the limits of what should be possible for a human. A muscle spasm could very easily result in a broken table. A full epileptic episode would likely trash a room with little regard for things like metal bartops… or people. The fact that something… an alien, of all things… was capable of provoking such physical and emotional reactions from him without his consent was… unsettling.

The bartender chose that moment to set his third beer down, snapping Jorge out of his contemplations. He was quite glad for the distraction. Jorge took a swig of the golden brew, letting the liquid take his mind off the asari and his friend.

It took longer than he would have liked. And once his mind _was_ off the asari and Joker, he didn't feel like going back to the table and being uncomfortable again. So he waited at the bar, sipping his beer.

At least until he heard a familiar voice, one that didn't belong to Joker.

Head up, suddenly alert, Jorge looked for the source of the voice, and quickly pinpointed where it was coming from. There was a turian, to his left and behind him, relaxing against a wall while he talked to the one person Jorge hadn't been expecting to see until shore leave was over.

Shepard.

She wasn't wearing any armor, only some standard off-duty clothes, and appeared to be in focused conversation with a turian in casual clothes. About what, he couldn't make out, the music effectively managed to drown out the words, but her voice was unmistakable.

Still, he was following her orders- which was to say, he wasn't following any orders, he was being social, and he was…. well, he wouldn't call this 'fun', but it was diverting and he fully intended on getting everyone together for cards later, and that would be fun. Or at least slightly amusing. Either way, Shepard wouldn't be happy if he snapped to attention just because she was here. After all, he was a… civilian… right now, and civilians didn't salute each other. His impulses mastered, Jorge took another gulp of the Paradise. He would have to do this more often- drink beer that is, not get dragged to dens or whatever the hell this place was.

"I knew you'd rat us out, Shepard."

That came through clear over the music and talk. Jorge's head whipped around as a man dressed in red casual clothes sauntered over to Shepard and the turian. The man's posture was aggressive as he confronted the slightly smaller woman as the turian watched.

"Now it's payback time," he pointed at her, his tone a mixture of cocky and angry. "When we're done telling our story, the aliens will _all _know what the first human SPECTRE really is."

That was all Jorge needed to hear. Orders from Shepard be damned, he wasn't going to let this bastard try to slander and bully his superior officer. Not someone who had earned his respect. Not while he was still breathing. He was walking before the man even finished his little tirade.

"My bio is public record. Everyone knows I ran with gangs as a kid." Shepard didn't seem too impressed.

"They don't know that the Red's target aliens _specifically_. We've got the backers to handle off world missions," the man bragged. "Your alien friends won't like you so much-"

Jorge, having passed Shepard and now next to the man, laid a hand on his shoulder. To his credit, the man managed to keep his calm.

"Stop talking. Now."

The man merely gave a small, confident, arrogant grin.

"No."

In the next second, Jorge had grabbed the man by the collar and single-handedly hefted the man to his own eye level.

He saw the fear. The eyes were wide, the mouth open in shock. It was only for a moment, but it told Jorge everything. He was a bully, and he hadn't been expecting a fight. Of course, Jorge also easily guessed the reaction. The face twisted from fear into a sneer and he went for a kick, a knee to the groin. Jorge caught it without any trouble before slamming the man into a nearby wall, knocking the breath out of him.

"Jorge, drop him," Shepard commanded.

Jorge obeyed, dropping the man nearly two feet to the ground. He landed badly, collapsing to his knees. Before he could right himself, Shepard was next to him. She retrieved something from her pocket.

With a flick that only Jorge followed, it became very evident what she had.

A butterfly knife. An expert flick told Jorge that Shepard had a good amount of practice with the tool.

"Now, let me be very clear. I am an N7 soldier for the Alliance. I am the captain of a starship. I am a Spectre. I am NOT a Red anymore." She leaned in close, business end of the butterfly knife tickling the man's gulping throat. "And if you, or any other Reds have a problem with that, well, then me and my friend Jorge here are going on a… hunting expedition… the next time we're on Earth. You get what I'm saying?"

He nodded quite enthusiastically.

"Good." An expert flick and the butterfly knife was back in her pocket. "I don't want to see you again. Get out of my sight."

He stood shakily. There was a pregnant pause, before he admitted defeat, hanging his head and shuffling as quickly as he could towards the door, all eyes in the club upon him.

"That man is a xenophobe who thinks he can blackmail a SPECTRE," the turian commented, troubled. "You should have killed him."

"Maybe," she agreed, staring out the door, pensive. "Then again, I believe in things like 'second chances' and 'water under the bridge'. Maybe he'll see the light. Maybe he won't. But if he does try that stunt again…. well, like I said, my big friend here will help me make sure the Reds never cross me a third time."

The turian tilted his head. "Goodbye, human. It will be interesting to see what kind of SPECTRE you turn out to be."

Jorge agreed, personally. Such blatant attempt at blackmail should earn far more than a verbal lashing. A flicker of a smile crossed Shepard's face.

"I thought you were off-duty, _Jorge_," she said pointedly.

"I'm not going to stand by while someone threatens you, Commander," he replied stiffly.

"Shepard. Just Shepard. I'm off duty too. Just another civilian, Jorge. Admittedly, a civilian with responsibilities to the galactic community, but since Saren isn't on the Citadel I think I'll enjoy myself. And I see you've been enjoying yourself," she grinned wolfishly. "Chora's Den? I never imagined you the type."

"Joker brought me here."

"It's good for you. Builds character," came Joker's voice. Clacking of crutches signaled Joker had entered the area and the conversation.

"Ah. How are you, Joker?" she asked the helmsman.

"Good. Could be better- next time, could you wait until AFTER the dancers finish before threatening people? Kinda kills the mood."

-_Beat_-

Shepard looked at him, utterly nonplussed.

"So, enjoying the atmosphere?" she asked Jorge after a suitable pause.

"Enjoying the beer."

"And the rest of your shore leave?"

"No."

Shepard chuckled at that. Joker grumbled .

"Well, most of the ground team was going to head over to Flux in… an hour, now. I'm not sure how much more it'll be to your taste, Jorge, but I can promise company."

"Hey, there's company here!" Shepard shot Joker a glare.

"Company that doesn't require credits."

"Those are the fun ones!" Both looked expectantly at Jorge, who was completely taken aback by the attention.

"Uh…."

They shared a look. Then they turned back to him.

"… Flux sounds good," Jorge said sheepishly. All of a sudden he felt very tiny.

"Right. See you there in an hour?" Joker took up.

"Yep. Don't let him sneak off to the hotel, Joker. See you later, Jorge!"

-{[]}-

A little under an hour later found Joker and a disgruntled Jorge heading up the final stairs to Flux. Joker, unlike the dour Jorge, looked like he was about to burst from excitement. He was grinning like a maniac and was shooting glances at Jorge whenever he thought he could get away with it- all of which Jorge noticed and pointedly ignored.

"That's it, I can't hold it anymore! How… what… how….! I mean, I didn't think that was possible, but somehow, you… you did it! I mean, I don't know what I witnessed a few minutes ago, but I sure as hell would like to see some more! I didn't even think you could do THAT with a beer! And then the asari… and the glowsticks … and ohhhhh man, that sexy-"

Jorge's touch was gentle but firm- even so, he heard Joker's ribs creaking under the strain.

"We will not talk about this ever again."

The threat was very clear in his voice.

"Not. A. Word. To anyone. Ever," Jorge clarified. Joker gulped and nodded.

"You do realize that place had cameras, right?" Joker said quietly as they continued to walk. "There's NO way that won't make it to the extranet."

"You remember that asari with the hood?"

"The one dressed up like a nun that got covered in-"

"That one. I heard one of the other asari call her 'Matriarch'. You remember the turian who tried to calm things down?"

"Yea, the guy who slipped and-"

"I heard one of the other turians call him 'General'. I don't think that video is going anywhere."

Joker chuckled. "Well, I sure know _I'm_ never going to forget that. Wish I'd thought to record some of that on my omni."

"I'd have snapped your omni in half," Jorge muttered darkly. As far as he was concerned, he was never going back to Chora's Den, or any other 'den', for the rest of his life. Unless it was to shoot the place up. He suddenly had new reason to do that.

The final stairs to Flux done, they entered the club proper, revealing an atmosphere similar to Chora's Den. The light was a dim green, as dark as the Den had been. Music blared loudly in the background, different than the Den but still grating on his ears. A dance floor off to the right was filled with gyrating bodies of all major species. A stairway separated the dance floor from the bar, leading up to a second floor filled with all types of gambling machines. On the left was a bar and a number of tables, occupied by various patrons. At one such table, a waving Ashley sat. Joker was already headed towards her. Jorge followed.

"Hey, look who showed up! Grab a seat!" Williams shouted exuberantly across the tables.

At the same table was Alenko, nursing a drink of muted colors with a smile on his face, Garrus, who had ordered an extremely large meal of what looked like a bug appetizer with blue meat as a main dish with some sort of pastey-looking green food on the side, Tali, who merely had a blue-colored drink of some sort, and an uncomfortable looking Liara, who had a glass of water and a small plate of a strange looking salad in front of her that she was picking at.

"Weeeelll, the party has arrived," Joker said, sliding into an unoccupied chair.

"Party was already here," Williams declared, holding her orange drink into the air. "Now we've just go the whole band together."

"No Wrex," Jorge noted as he slid into his own seat. Beside him, Alenko shuddered.

"No offense to Wrex, but I want a little relaxation when I drink," Alenko commented.

"Are krogan even allowed in here?" Tali asked. "I haven't seen one all night."

"They have to let them in. I just don't think they want to come here. _Flux_ isn't exactly known for fights," Garrus commented through a full mouth. "And seeing as how that's what most krogan are looking for…"

"That sounds fun!" slurred Williams. Liara looked startled at the declaration. Alenko just facepalmed.

"Williams, sit down, you're drunk," Alenko told the table.

"I am not!" she protested. She swayed on her feet before toppling into her chair. "Whoa…. How'd that happen?"

"Speaking of drunk, I'm not. I'll have what she's having," Joker told the server, pointing at Williams.

_Not exactly the ideal situation… well, best make the most of it._

"I'll have a beer, what kinds do you have?" he asked the server. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

No, the mistake this time was asking what they had, because not only did they not carry Eden Prime Paradise, they also had more than double the selection of Chora's Den.

Joker burst out into laughter, followed half a second later by Williams, at the look of despair he had not thought to hide.

-{[]}-

Jorge enjoyed his new beer, a "Jericho Colony Stout", while the rest of the table was enthralled by tales of escapades from boot camp, told by a now slightly-more sober Williams and Vakarian. Jorge and Alenko had both declined entreaties to tell their own stories. Alenko had said something about 'not allowed to do that kind of stuff'. Jorge had just given them all a ghost of a grin before shaking his head no.

Williams, ever the true marine, had gotten into some truly funny and interesting escapades as an FNG, but most of her stories were brought down by her vehement endings- she always got more punishment than everyone else, or so it seemed. According to her, it was because she was a Williams and therefore her officers hated her and her family's guts. While that may be true in some cases, it seemed more to him that she usually got the bigger punishment because she was either the instigator or the lead offender.

Vakarian, his meal finished, matched Williams story for story. Surprising, for a highly disciplined turian, but then according to him he was something of a hotheaded renegade. And to be fair, his escapades were usually less rambunctious- though Jorge did notice a pattern of ignoring the rules- usually for a good reason, though sometimes not so much.

Shepard had dropped by for nearly an hour, sharing a story or two of her own- her creative uses of a mop during N training had everyone in stiches and even gave Jorge a good chuckle. She left reluctantly to go get fitted for her new armor- the Alliance had seen fit to issue her the license for a custom N7 Onyx IV model. Jorge found it rather interesting, after engaging her in discussion about this, that they had indeed only given her the _rights _to get the armor- the armor itself would be custom-built in one of the Citadel's armor shops over the course of a few hours from her exact measurements when taken. She would get measured, meet them back at the hotel, go to sleep, and wake up the next morning with a brand new set of armor, squeaky clean off the assembly line. An interesting system- one with definite benefits, for both the industrial sector and for the Alliance as a whole- industry gets money, the Alliance gets cheap armor wherever it needs it. Of course, it also meant that secrecy was practically a joke- anyone could get military-quality armor with either the credits or the hacking skills- not to mention to mention the latest and greatest technological advances were disseminated and replicated by competitors and other governments within days. Definite downsides as well.

Still, the party at the table was mostly quiet for the moment. Williams had managed to drag Liara to the dance floor. She was dancing like there was no tomorrow while Liara looked very torn on the edge of the floor. Garrus had headed up to the second floor, where he intended to do a little light gambling in the time before he went to the hotel. Tali had headed upstairs with him for some reason, leaving Jorge, Alenko, and Joker holding the table. The mood had tapered off to a contented silence after a while, for which Jorge was glad.

At least, until a commotion by the stairs got Jorge's attention.

"I didn't steal anything!" came Tali's protest.

There, being dragged down the stairs by the human bouncer, was a squirming and unhappy Tali. Following behind at a slower pace was a rotund little volus.

"You were- _ksh_ – warned when you came in to stay away from the gambling machines. –_ksh_- I have had too many salarians in here attempting to –_ksh_- _'gather data_' to not take precautions," the volus told her as she was dragged along.

"_I wasn't even gambling!_"

Liara looked utterly stricken as Tali was dragged by.

"You could have just as easily been –_ksh_- influencing the games. Your suit no doubt contains a remarkable amount of programs –_ksh_-synced to your omni, and I have no way of knowing-"

"Hey!"

The bouncer was suddenly stopped by an irate Williams.

"You can't just throw her out! She hasn't done anything!" Williams gestured. For a moment, the bouncer looked taken aback. But his hold remained firm.

"I can and will throw out anyone I believe is cheating," the volus said pointedly with a loud hiss. "And with an eyewitness-"

"_There was no one near me!_"

"You were accused of cheating by a regular," the volus said exasperated. "And as such you will be thrown out-"

"Hands off her."

Jorge entered the conversation. The bouncer turned to see who had spoken and Jorge saw his jaw drop as he stared.

"No! Throw her out!" the volus insisted, not even looking at Jorge.

"Take your hands off her or I will break your arms."

The bouncer let go and kept his hands out wide. Tali scrambled to hide behind Jorge.

"What?! What are you doing you- oh."

Volus came up to about the waist of everyone else. On Jorge, of course, that meant the volus proprietor came up to just above kneecap level. Surprisingly, the volus was quick to recover- quicker than even the bouncer.

"I do not care who you are, all of you –_ksh_-, get out of my club! I will call C-SEC if I have to!" he practically shouted at them. Given it was coming from a black wrinkled bowling ball, Jorge did not find this very intimidating.

"Fine," Williams grumbled. "C'mon, let's go."

Still, he did not find getting arrested very appealing, not enough to finish his beer at any rate. He followed the grumbling Williams to the stairs with Tali following close behind.

"I'm sorry I got both of you thrown out," Tali told them as they exited the club, wringing her hands nervously.

"No," both marines said at once. After a shared glance, Jorge allowed Williams to go first.

"That bastard had no reason to throw you out," Williams seethed. "I'd be willing to bet he threw you out just because you were a quarian near his gambling machines and the whole 'eyewitness' was made up."

"Don't be sorry," Jorge added. "It's not your fault. Understand?"

Tali nodded her head hesitantly.

"Right, so cards?" Williams asked, her mood brightening. Jorge shrugged. He'd thrown out the idea and everyone had seemed to be susceptive to it. Though Williams had an evil smirk on her face once Joker mentioned Jorge had never drunk before that night.

"Well, I need to go get… prepared… go on ahead," she grinned, steepling her fingers in front of her face. With a maniacal laugh, she turned and headed off towards the shopping district.

"Should… we be scared?" Tali asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure," he replied uncertainly. Jorge cleared his mind- he would deal with that later.

"You alright?" he asked Tali gently.

"You would think I would be used to it by now," Tali sighed.

"Used to what?" he asked as they began to walk. Jorge subtly steered them towards a railing with no other people near.

"How people treat quarians. They warn us about this on the Flotilla, before we leave on our Pilgrimage. They tell us we'll be treated like second-class citizens- or worse, as criminals. That we'll get half the pay yet be expected to do double the work. I thought they were exaggerating. They weren't. Ever since I came to Council space, I've been thrown out of hotels, threatened arrest for vagrancy, accused of stealing, even turned away from medical treatment all because I'm a quarian." Tali leaned on the railing, staring out at the ward arms spread before her.

"Sometimes I wish I was back on the Flotilla. I've learned a lot, but I think Shepard was right about the Pilgrimage; it's not just a way of getting resources for the fleet, it's about showing us just how different our culture is. Why we live the way we do."

"So what are you waiting for? Go home," Jorge suggested sympathetically.

"No," she shook her head vehemently. "Not until Saren is brought to justice. Then… well, then I need to find a proper pilgrimage gift."

"Hmph. Saving the galaxy isn't enough of a gift?"

"Maybe. But a gift is typically supposed to be more directly useful to the Flotilla- a ship, guns, unique information- something the Quarian People can actually use. We can't afford to have anyone who is dead weight, and the Pilgrimage gift is a way to show that we can be useful."

A moment of silence descended between the two as they both stared out across the Wards. With the soft blue lights against the metal grey of the arms, split by the lights of aircar traffic, the scene was a strangely peaceful bustle of civilization.

"Well, you aren't dead weight on this team," Jorge said finally. He turned to the curious quarian. "When you first came aboard, I thought it was a mistake. No, let me finish," he said holding up a hand to forestall her. "This was a military operation, and I believed that it was no place for a civilian with only some minor combat training. I was wrong. The _Normandy_ is exactly where you belong. Your tech skills are extremely useful against both synthetic and organic alike and your courage in combat has been exemplary. And if the quarian Flotilla doesn't see your worth from your deeds alone, then they don't deserve to have you."

"I… thank you," Tali stammered out. Having long experience reading people through armor, Jorge knew that what he was seeing in her body language was 'embarrassment'.

"You deserved to hear it," he said with a grin. "Now, come on. Let's head to the hotel. I'm not sure I want Williams to beat us to the hotel with… whatever she's got planned."

-{[]}-

Couple comments:

First, user alienvx0 made a comment that he was hoping for some more dialog during Shep's confrontation with Jorge about his childhood last chapter. After looking back over the chapter, I agreed, so i added a little bit more. Not a lot, mind you, but I hope it fleshes things out a bit mroe. Shoutout to the story _The Last Spartan_, by Dinojake, because that's where I got the idea for having a tropical island mission that turned into a shore leave.

Second, guest user Fun 2 Know, Jorge did indeed have biofoam when he came to the universe. However, it has since been replaced with medi-gel while Alliance scientists try to reverse engineer bio-foam.

Third: This chapter wasn't out as quickly as I wanted it to be because I find this 'casual conversation' stuff much more difficult to write than, say, an action scene. I also try to do my best to make these kinds of scenes meaningful, because it's in these kinds of chapters that character development happens. Also, work has been kicking my butt the last week or two, leaving me with less time than before- hopefully that will taper off soon, but it may well continue into October. Stay tuned, though- I won't abandon this story.

Fourth: A lot of stories- I mean short life experiences, long and thought out positions in arguments, etc.- have something called Too Long, Didn't Read (TL;DR), which is a one-sentence summary of what they were jabbering on about. Reddit once posted a competition to see who could post the best story using only the TL;DR- no further context or anything. The winner? If memory serves (and this is all secondhand), the winner was "TL;DR: and that's the story of how my dog got written a speeding ticket." Naturally everyone immediately wanted to know how that happened. The author refrained, saying that the actual story was likely far less interesting than whatever the readers themselves dreamed up.

That's what I hope I turned the 'incident' into. A 'noodle incident', for those who know that means. I will tell you, however, that it all started with the dancer that was eyeing Jorge, who was hoping to see if he was as 'big' down there as his size suggested...

You can blame _Pacific Rim _for Shepard having a butterfly knife.

Once again, this chapter was proofed only by me, so let me know what you think or any mistakes you see.


	22. Chapter 20- Citadel Adventures Part 2

The night had started with Tali and Jorge in Jorge's hotel room by themselves. Tali had a lot of experience with Quarian games, but none with human card games. Jorge knew a few games, variations of Poker mostly, but the extranet had informed him that the most common games were _Jekti_, a turian card game meant for no more than four players, _Asola_, an Asari game involving cards and tokens (so that was out), and Skyllian Five, a Poker variant that came out of Alliance space. Needless to say, they planned on learning Skyllian Five. Jorge picked it up easy enough, it was a variant of Poker after all, the changes were minor. Tali picked it up quickly enough once she figured out the rules.

That was when Williams had knocked on the door.

It turned out that what Williams had planned was 'alcohol'. Lots of alcohol. Even a pair of dextro drinks for Garrus and Tali. Personally, Jorge didn't know what 'drinking' was going to add to his card game, but whatever it was, it wasn't looking good. Most of Williams' more outlandish stories had started with alcohol. Perhaps he shouldn't have held the card game in his room…

Around that time Alenko, Garrus, and indeed the entire rest of the ground team including Joker and minus Wrex and Shepard. It was fortunate the Alliance had rented them a rather large room meant for extended stays-the fact that there was a refrigerator and a dining table, small as it was, helped matters considerably.

"All right, here's the deal," Williams told the assembled people. They sat around the table, shoulder to shoulder, though Jorge was sitting on a solid wood stool- it used to have some small plastic 'feet', but those had been crushed when he sat down. Even though his chair was a foot shorter than everyone else, he still was able to reach the table with no problems.

"We are playing Skyllian Five, unofficial Marines drinking rules," Williams told everyone as she began setting down drinks. They were large, multicolored, and varied. Williams proceeded to explain the rules, which involved quite a bit of drinking, while Joker passed out a variety of small plastic chips and explained the values.

"Remind me… why are we doing this? Because this- this isn't going to end well," Alenko asked as Williams set a cup down in front of him.

"We are doing it to initiate Jorge," Williams told him with a roll of her eyes. "And Garrus and Tali and Liara, now that I think about it."

Tali and Liara looked a bit nervous at that. Garrus let out a groan.

"I'm in," Joker chimed in from his chair. "I've got nothing to do tomorrow."

"Are you telling me this is some sort of… human tradition?" Liara asked, curious and more than a bit wary.

"Yes!"

"No," Alenko disputed. Williams shot him a glare but he continued. "It's not a tradition. More of a pastime, actually, and it typically it _only_ applies to the Marines. Usually not the biotic ones either."

"They've been with us since Eden Prime, they're practically Marines now," Williams brushed off. Liara did not look very happy with this. Garrus looked startled.

"Besides, we can use it to find out some more about Jorge," Joker threw out. Jorge shot him a glare. "What? Don't give me that. Don't tell me I'm the only one wonder just what the hell your parents fed you when you were younger. I mean, seriously? I've heard about 'eating your greens', but I swear I my parents made me eat all my greens and look how I turned out. Was it the cod liver oil? Damn, it was, wasn't it!"

Jorge rolled his eyes.

"I know I wouldn't mind hearing the story behind that scar of yours," Williams told the table as she sat down. "C'mon, there's got to be a story behind that."

"I'm guessing a Volus, with a knife, in the study," Joker said with a grin. Everyone stared at him. "No one? Really? Damn it."

"Think a Turian claw could have caused that, Garrus?" Williams asked as she began to deal.

"Maybe," Garrus allowed. "Most of the time we don't use talons though. It's considered uncivilized. I don't see how anyone got close enough to use talons though."

"My money's on krogan," Williams said with a sly eye on Jorge. "Some sort of knife fight with a krogan warlord."

Jorge, knowing he was being watched, gave them all a sly grin of his own. "The story of how I got the scar across my brow is mine and mine alone."

"Cop out!"

"Yea, boooo!"

The table shared a chuckle at that as they looked at their first hand of the night.

It didn't look good for Jorge. Still, no point in folding until-

"Raise ten," Williams flicked the chip into the middle. Even if it was just a bluff, he had nothing.

"Fold," he called out, putting his cards face-down in the discard pile.

"You know what you have to do," Williams smirked at him. Jorge grimaced as he looked at the cup he had been provided.

It was a dark green color on the bottom with a dark blue on top. He didn't know what it was called, only that Williams had taken several of the liquors she had bought in order to create it. And something called a 'mixer', whatever that was. Bracing himself, Jorge lifted it to his lips and took a drink.

It was sweet- too sweet, to his tastebuds- and the alcohol caused him to swallow quickly- even after, it lingered in his mouth. He coughed a few times trying to get rid of the vile taste, to little avail. Across the table, Williams giggled like a little girl at sight.

When he finally recovered, the round was done- Liara had a pair of aces, but, unable to keep a poker face, everyone else had folded and was forced to take a drink.

"Doesn't look like he liked it, Gunney," Alenko commented.

"Yea, yea," Williams grumbled as she dealt more cards. "I bought some beers too. You have to drink double with them though."

Nodding gratefully, Jorge took his cup to the sink and grabbed a can of beer- Eden Prime Paradise, perfect- before sitting back down for the next round.

-{[]}-

Jorge woke up later than normal- his omni read 6:30AM Earth standard time- half an hour later than normal. Jorge was about to berate himself when he remembered he was on shore leave.

_You are not military. You are a civilian._

For the first time since he was six years old, Jorge allowed himself to lay in bed, a warm, comfy bed that was just slightly too small and as such had his feet dangling over the side.

He had nowhere to be. No reason to get up. Maybe he should enjoy it while he had the chance? Intent on this novel line of thought, Jorge relaxed and thought back over the events of the previous night.

Playing with them had been fun, he had to admit. Liara was an incredibly easy read, but as she was clearly a newbie to the game, he was willing to go easy on her. Tali picked up the game incredibly fast, and he was pretty sure he was the only one who could read her- the full mask and body suit hid her emotions well, but to someone who had experience reading such things through heavy body armor, she had quite a few tells. Joker was interesting- he cracked jokes like no tomorrow, and his very obvious facial expressions were just as often fake as they were real. Williams had been a pretty typical player, someone Jorge would relatively easily read, most of the time. Alenko was cautious, too easy to bluff and first to fold- though he was quite capable of stringing someone along if he felt like it. The real challenge was Garrus- turian facial structure was already hard to read, due to the evolutionary advantage that essentially fixed their face. One had to watch the mandibles very closely in order to divine what Garrus was thinking… and he was very good at hiding it.

It wasn't the same as with the other II's- it never would be, as much as he wished it was a times. No, compared to him, all the players at the table were amateurs- for the most part, he could read every player like an open book, and with his stony façade in place, no one ever guessed what he was thinking. His enhanced brain ran through the probabilities and numbers in seconds, giving him a major advantage when it came to card playing. No, it would never be the same, if for no other reason than his opponents would almost never be able to match him.

That said, he had enjoyed himself. He wasn't playing to win, or to clean other players out, or to embarrass anyone. He was there to have fun with the team he trusted with his life. And he had. It was more rambunctious than with the II's, especially with the alcohol involved, but it was more carefree, too. The II's, or at least most of them, turned everything into a competition, and took it seriously. There were good things about that, but sometimes all Jorge wanted to do was kick back and relax, and the atmosphere of this game was ideal for that. He enjoyed it, for as long as it lasted.

Alenko had been the first to leave. A bit of a corona had flared around the man, causing the table to shake, before he stopped drinking and excused himself, claiming that he shouldn't have even drunk in the first place- apparently alcohol was an easy trigger mechanism for the migraines he was cursed with as an L2 biotic.

Liara was next, though she didn't leave voluntarily. No, she didn't even leave on her own two feet. She hadn't been skilled at hiding her feelings, in addition to being extremely easy to bluff, and as such had been on her third full cup of liquor before most were halfway through their second. The result was that she had weaved her way unsteadily to the bathroom and spent half an hour clutching the toilet. Williams, on a toilet run of her own, had found Liara clutching the white bowl in a deathgrip, passed out on the floor after having emptied her stomach, fortunately into the toilet and not all over the floor. Jorge, buzzed at this point but still coherent thanks to his emotionless poker face and less alcoholic beer, had carried her bridal-style back to her room and set her to bed.

Tali followed soon after. Jorge, having gotten back from putting Liara to bed, accidentally ripped her chair in half when he used it for support trying to sit down. Jorge had been horrified, Tali confused, and everyone else laughed themselves sick. Almost literally, in Williams' case. Tali apparently decided that was enough excitement for one night and made some excuses and left. At the same time, Jorge decided that he didn't want any more property destruction and refused to keep drinking. To be honest, he would have left if he could have, but that was a problem since they were playing in his room… a mistake he would not make again.

Garrus, Williams, Joker and Jorge had lasted until 3:00 Citadel Standard time- which was, according to his omni, 1:20AM Earth Standard time. At that point, Garrus finally gave in to his body's needs and decided it was time to go to sleep. Williams and Joker, quite drunk, had stumbled out to their own rooms. Immediately afterwards, Jorge had descended upon his bed, not bothering to clean up or to even change clothes. He had fallen asleep like a rock.

Lying on the comfortable bed was paradise. But after ten minutes simply sitting in his bed, wide awake, bored, Jorge decided maybe he could do something else. Sleep was nice, but the unfortunate fact was that, now that he was awake, he was going to stay that way.

With that in mind, Jorge got up, headed to the hotel foyer for the complementary food (it was better than the rations he was used to, even though he overheard some complain that it was tasteless). After breakfast he hit the gym the hotel had.

It was woefully understocked, especially for someone of his strength. He maxed out most machines without even trying and there were minimal free weights. He could and did run and do some weight-less workout routines, and managed to get a fair, if slightly lacking, workout done.

He was on his way back to his room for a shower (he was really getting spoiled) when his omni blared at him. Not in a quiet way, either. A passing salarian and asari gave him the evil eye as he fumbled with it. He managed to bring it up quickly enough. It was an Emergency Alert Message.

_Shepard to all crew._

_I regret to say shore leave has been cut short. All crew are to report back to the Normandy by 0830 Earth Standard time. Cast off is at 0900._

_That is all._

_Shepard_

Well, so much for shore leave.

-{[]}-

I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I had plans, but they just didn't make sense anymore once I started writing the dialogue. It just didn't make sense with Jorge's character. Ah well. Anyways, have a deleted scene!

-{[]}-

**ELCOR TIPPING**

Tiber Pontius, C-Sec guard, dutifully reviewed the security footage from the hotel. An elcor citizen had called C-Sec in the area- something about 'disrespect' and 'assault'. Re-winding to the timeframe the elcor had given him, in the area the elcor had been in, Tiber watched the assault unfold.

It started peacefully enough, with the elcor minding his own business. He stopped to take in the sight of a fountain when all hell broke loose.

"_There's one!"_ exclaimed someone from off screen. Female, human, from the sound of it. It wasn't aggressive, like he would have expected, but more playful. The elcor turned around.

"_Confused query: May I ask who you are-"_

The elcor didn't have time to finish the sentence when a massive human rushed onto screen, straight for the elcor. The elcor, though alarmed, did not move- growing up on the high gravity of Dekuuna made one extremely careful of their surroundings, when a single fall could mean death.

"_Surpr-"_

He got no further before the giant human rammed the elcor on the side _before lifting the surprised elcor off its feet!_ Tiber openly gaped at that- this human was strong enough to lift an _elcor_! Even if it was just a few inches, it was impressive.

With the combined assault, the elcor, one of the most solidly-build creatures in known space, toppled over onto his side, with the human on top of it. The giant human was off the downed elcor in a moment, sprinting back offscreen. Outside of the camera range, laughter erupted.

"_Panicked: Help! I've fallen and I cannot get up!_" the elcor cried out at maximum translator volume. He thrashed on his side, clearly attempting to get up, but the body structure of his species prevented him from rising- an elcor that fell on its side on Dekuuna would likely be dead. If it wasn't, it would at the very least need heavy equipment to right it.

The laughter offscreen faded away as the elcor continued to thrash and call for help.

Tiber buried his head in his talons. Why was it always him?


	23. Chapter 21- Base Assault

+_Ground team to the briefing room,_+ Shepard's voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

Jorge ignored it for now. He had no intention of ignoring a superior officer, it was just that he was quite literally the only person capable of manipulating most pieces of his armor without help, or heavy equipment.

Considering they had left nearly a full twenty-eight hours ahead of schedule, it was a miracle he had his armor at all. Fortunately, it appeared that Hackett had ordered the job to be done ASAP, and as such all the major repairs had been done. It was not yet repainted- the rush to get off station had prevented that from happening. As such, his armor looked terrible; there were huge sections of nothing but bare metal. Splashes of his old colors, faded and ragged, remained in random splotches- the process to repair had burnt or sanded off a fair bit of the colors, in addition to the damage done by the creepers. Still, it was functional, and that was the important thing.

His equipment successfully stowed, he headed for the briefing room. The freight elevator was as slow as ever. By the time he had made it to the briefing room, he was quite last. He was still in better shape than Williams and T'Soni though- both looked thoroughly miserable.

As he took his seat, he saw the planet they were being briefed on. It looked suspiciously like Earth's Moon- something he couldn't confirm, having never actually been to the birthplace of humanity. Shepard looked up from her omni.

"Now that we're all here, I'd like to apologize for pulling you all away from the first shore leave we had. I hope you got everything you needed to," she said. A loud groan came from Williams. Shepard ignored it.

"The Alliance has had a situation come up," she continued. A tap of her omni tool and the planet zoomed forward.

"This is Luna, Earth's moon. With 1/6 gravity standard and a negligible atmosphere, full environmental suits are required at all times." Shepard tapped another button, and an altitude photo of three circular bases came to the forefront.

"The Moon is, for all intents and purposes, uninhabitable. As such, the Alliance set up a small training ground on one of the plateaus to train Marines, Special Forces, and other branches how to handle fighting in hostile environments. These three bases were a part of a standard combat sim and training program. The soldiers would be given orders, usually base assaults, and automated defenses and drones would simulate defenders." Shepard paused for a moment.

"The computer controlling the defenses in these bases has gone rogue."

Jorge saw Tali's hands clench, and heard a sharp intake of breath from Garrus and several other team members.

"What do you mean 'gone rogue', Shepard?" Tali asked in a tight voice.

"Nothing illegal, Tali. I've been assured it's impossible for this to have become an AI," Shepard assured the Quarian. "Nevertheless, it killed a squad of marines attempting a base assault and has not been responding to override codes."

"Now, the current options for the brass are orbital bombardment, full scale assault, or small scale assault. Destruction of the training grounds is obviously not high on their list, and the confined spaces make a full-scale assault untenable. That leaves small scale assault, so they turned to me. And I obviously come with you guys."

"Commander..." Jorge began. Shepard cut him off with a raised hand.

"Let me guess, you have reservations about our non-human members," Shepard supplied. Apparently she was getting to know him and Williams well. He nodded.

"Well, don't worry. I asked Hackett about that with you in mind, and he told me that there are no concerns. It's a training ground, plain and simple. There are no prototype technologies being tested, no revolutionary tactics being employed, or anything else the Alliance wants kept secret. Just a couple of colony-style bases with lots of standard gun drones guarding them."

Jorge leaned back in seat, mollified.

"Right. So, any other concerns before we get started? No? Good."

-{[]}-

Jorge watched from behind his visor as the rest of the team prepared themselves for the next step.

Stage one was already in progress; Shepard, Tali, and Garrus had been dropped in the Mako out of range of the gun turrets. From there, it was a leisurely drive to the base, where the Mako would disable the turrets. Once those had been neutralized, it would be time to start stage 2.

The entire ground team was going out on a mission. Shepard would take Wrex, Liara and Garrus to shut down one of the three separate bases while Lieutenant Alenko led Jorge, Williams and Tali towards a second base. The teams would combine their forces for the assault on the final base. The objectives were the servers that the defense VI was stored on deep within the bases; destroy the servers, the VI would be shut down.

That was, of course, making things sound much simpler than they were. The VI had a veritable army of drones at its disposal, ones that it had somehow managed to break the safety locks on so that they fired live ammunition instead of the toned-down projectiles they normally fired. In addition, base manifests had included a contingent of rocket drones as well, and it was likely they had been activated. Combined with the choke points and relative close quarters of the bases, these drones were going to make their lives a living hell, if the VI was smart about it- and it would be, considering it was originally programmed for such things.

Still, could be worse. There were only so many drones three bases could hold, after all. It was significantly less than the troop compliment of a SuperCarrier, of that he was certain. Best of all, Tali had unveiled some engineering tricks, and they were likely going to give the VI a surprise of its own.

+_Shepard to Normandy. Base turrets have been neutralized. You are cleared to begin landing operations._+

+_Normandy confirms. Beginning landing operations now._+

Lights flashed around the bay as the ground team and crew donned their breathing equipment. Joker would land the Normandy just to the north of the bases, allowing the Mako to be re-loaded by the crew while the ground team disembarked to continue combat operations.

The ramp began to open, a blue barrier curtain preventing the air from escaping into the airless atmosphere of the moon. They witnessed the final approach to the grey Lunar landscape, and touched down as light as a feather.

+_The Eagle has landed,_+ came Joker's voice over the squad channel. Liara looked around at the rest of the squad mates, trying to discern the reference. Jorge saw Alenko's eyes roll behind their visor.

+_I didn't know this was your first moon landing, Joker,_+ Shepard's voice came over the radio.

+_First time for everything, Commander. Never thought I'd actually get to say that, though._+

Outside, the Mako pulled up near the ship. Lieutenant Alenko headed down the ramp, with the rest of the ground team following, and in moments had passed through the barrier and into the airless landscape of the moon. Shepard, Tali, and Garrus met them half way.

+_Alright, everyone knows what to do,_+ Shepard said over the radio. Nodding, Jorge formed up behind the Lieutenant, along with Tali and Williams (in the brand new Explorer armor she had gotten from the Normandy requisitions officer; she had been cursing herself all morning for not taking care of her armor issues BEFORE going drinking, as it wasn't quite as form-fitting or as comfortable as she would have liked).

Together, the group of four headed towards the first base on the right; Shepard, along with Wrex, Liara, and Garrus, headed for the nearest base on the left.

Walking was normal, despite the low gravity and airless conditions. All were wearing sealed space suits, so the airlessness was obviously not a problem. Most also had suits with built in mass effect generators, which automatically compensated for the lowered gravitational pull by proportionally increasing their mass. Jorge, however, had yet to get such technological upgrades integrated into his Mjolnir; still, the fact that he normally weighed nearly a thousand kilograms meant that even on the moon he still weighed a substantial amount. Even so, he was enjoying the rest for his arms while he could- the bases had gravity generators and kept the gravity at Earth standard. He especially enjoyed the view- Earth was visible if one so much as glanced upwards, a green and blue marble in the black of space.

Earth. Jorge had never actually been there, or even close to it. Reach was the closest he had ever been, nearly a dozen light years away. Still, he had heard of it. Learned about it. Earth, cradle of humanity, the most significant and most well defended of planets in the entire UNSC. Everything they did was to preserve Earth and all her colonies. It would never have a place in his heart like Reach, but Earth was everything he had ever fought for. Seeing it safe, even in an alternate universe several hundred years in the past, filled him with satisfaction for a job well done.

+_Breaching positions,_+ Alenko ordered.

They weren't really going to breach it, at least not with explosives. The bases had been designed and build using standard colony building materials, to best simulate the conditions that would be found on colony worlds. To that end, the doors were all semi-independent, with a small computer all their own that was capable of being controlled from a central source. While the VI was capable of closing the doors, each door also had an industrial override code hard-wired in, allowing the team to forcibly open or close doors without the VI's consent.

That didn't prevent the VI from stationing gun drones right on the other side of the door, though.

Jorge took his position on the left side of the door while Williams took the right with her shotgun, Tali behind her. Alenko stood behind him, preparing the override codes on is omni. Jorge waited.

He felt the Lieutenant smack his right shoulder pad just as the door opened vertically. Swinging around, Jorge took a forceful step into the room, Williams right next to him, checking his arcs for targets, prepared to unleash hell at the first sign of movement. But there was nothing. The airlock chamber was empty.

"Clear," he said over the comm channel for team two.

+_Clear,_+ came Williams' voice.

+_Move in,_+ the Lieutenant ordered.

The procedure was repeated for the airlock door, but again there were no drones awaiting them. Now inside the base proper, they relaxed their suit seals- no point in wasting stored air when they didn't need to.

The first room they came upon was also empty of drones, though it did have some crates and storage lockers to simulate a colonial base. Jorge was starting to be concerned about the lack of drones. A concern echoed by Williams.

"Where are they?" she asked aloud. "What are they waiting for?"

"It's a VI specialized for controlling combat drones," Alenko answered, examining the base layout on his omni tool. "It must have calculated that these weren't the optimal places to attack."

Jorge pointed to the next large chamber on the projection. "Probably going to wait in the shadows, then attack when we're exposed trying to cross the next chamber."

Alenko nodded. "Ambush. And with no cover, we'd be cut to pieces," he agreed. "We'll stick to the sides, try to recon the area before we head in. Kadar, Williams, get the next door."

The corridor was predictably empty. Near the door at the end, a red blip appeared on the team's tracker. A drone IFF. It did not move as they approached the door, but was joined by another two. All three were off to the right.

Well, it looked like the work Tali had done to mask their IFF signatures was working.

"Jorge, you're first in. Ash, right behind him and secure the left. Tali, pick your targets, I'll do the same," he ordered. "Stack up, wait for my signal."

He felt the tap on his shoulder pad and swung through the opening door. There were no immediate contacts, it appeared that the VI hadn't been spoofing IFFs. There was a small open space, nearly four meters square, bounded by crates piled high and the wall on the other sides.

Unfortunately, the crate cover opening to the right and the rest of the room was no more than knee high, leaving him in full view of the three drones that he had noted earlier.

"Contact right!" he bellowed as he depressed the trigger.

They appeared to have taken them by surprise- the nearest drone had its turret/head pointed the wrong direction. Jorge's opening barrage went unanswered for five bullets... Ten bullets... Thirteen bullets...

Spindly and fragile looking, the drones were nothing more than a small computer and eezo core attached to a mass accelerator, with three tripod 'legs' that could be manouvered to allow it to land. It was small and not particularly heavily defended, but packed enough of a punch to pose a legitimate threat to most combatants. In swarms, controlled by a competent VI under the direction of an operator, they were lethally effective.

The first four bullets collapsed the drone's shields, leaving it vulnerable. The next three missed completely, passing through the open space of the tripod. The next hit one of the tripod legs, severing it from the drone. Another few misses and a few hits, before the thirteenth bullet hit something vital and the drone exploded.

By now they were firing back. Jorge held his ground, shield draining under the barrage from the drones, providing cover fire and distraction all at once.

The one on the left was hit by an overload, stunning it and draining the shields just long enough for Jorge to bring the Legacy to bear- second contact, down.

The third was hit by another overload, and before Jorge could finish it off, an assault rifle chattered. The drone went down in smoke from Williams precise fire.

Jorge was already preparing for the next wave when his motion tracker lit up with red dots. The sound of clanking metal reached his ears as the first drone appeared in his field of vision. He didn't hesitate.

The VI apparently decided that the best method of dealing with the intruders was to mob them, and to that end every single drone charged at them at full speed, blazing away as they did so. To that end, the battle quickly became chaos, as the gun drones buzzed around in the same little area that the team occupied.

The VI had also apparently decided that Jorge was a priority target, as most of the drones focused on him.

Five separate drones targeted him alone of the seven rushing at them. Jorge returned fire as his shields began to quickly drain. Overloads flashed in their midst, dropping the shields of two, while his heavy gunfire managed to weaken the shields of the others.

Then they were upon them.

Jorge tightened his stance, hiding behind the up-armor bolted in to his upper chest plate as his shields sparked and fell. At point-blank range now, the Legacy spat death, scrapping a drone in under a second. Another took its place, the fire hammering the bare metal of his chest plate and the reactor protected within.

An overload and shotgun blast destroyed one drone firing at him just as he scrapped another. Behind it, one drone was hit by a tech mine and went berserk, turning upon the drone immediately next to it. A shotgun boomed out of his field of vision to the left- Williams had joined the fray. A blue field slammed a drone off to the side and hard into a wall just as the heat indicator on Jorge's gun began indicating dangerous levels.

One drone underestimated Jorge's reach and closed to less than a meter, attempting to get a clear shot at his less-protected head. Faster than one would think possible, Jorge lashed out with the butt of his machine gun in a vicious melee strike. The drone drunkenly attempted to right itself and tried to fire at him- it exploded, the barrel having been warped enough from the force of the blow to prevent the round from exiting cleanly.

Jorge was already targeting the next drone.

A few seconds later, the drone now in a heap on the ground and his gun at the point of overheat, Jorge suddenly found himself targetless. There were no further contacts within the room.

"Everyone alright?" Alenko asked. The team responded with affirmatives. "Jorge, you have point, everyone else spread out, we'll follow the left wall to the door."

There were no further drones in the large room- the VI had apparently thrown them all at the team in a single attempt. Still, that hadn't been the full manifest of drones attributed to this base.

Normally, the simulation was complete once the main room was cleared; with the VI rogue, the team needed to head for the last chambers. The server rooms.

The hallway was clear, just a long hallway with another door at the end. From there, it split into two, one left and one right, each leading to a server room. A red dot appeared on their screens as they prepared to breach the door at the end of the hallway.

"They're protecting the servers," Alenko muttered. A few seconds later, he came to a decision.

"We breach, then go left. Ash, you're up front. Me, Tali and Ash will breach that one, Jorge, you have rear guard. I don't want the ones from the other server room surprising us."

They breached, with no problems as was becoming normal. Alenko, Williams and Tali prepared to breach.

Normally, with his fellow Spartans, Jorge would have turned his back, trusting his teammates to handle the drones while he focused upon the potential threat from behind. However, recent events had shown that, while his teammates were very talented, they were not up to the level with which he was accustomed. He needed to be more careful, for both their sake, and his own. To that end, he pressed himself against the wall, allowing a simple turn of the head to see the team and mere moments from covering his teammates.

He watched them prepare to breach, Williams on one side and Tali on the other. Alenko counted down…. _3… 2… 1…_

The door opened to four drones arranged in a semi-circle around the door, as had been shown on their trackers. Tali and Alenko raised their omni tools and let loose their tech grenades, overloading, sabotaging, and even hacking the drones while Williams went to work with her shotgun even as her shields were hammered by fire.

Jorge, however, had other problems.

The VI was no doubt attempting to capture them in a pincer movement, as expected. The door behind them, to the other server room, opened. Three drones came boiling out.

Jorge did not hesitate. He stepped into the line of fire and opened fire himself as his shields began to drain.

At this range, in this confined space, he couldn't miss. Four shots collapsed the shield of the first one. The fifth shot missed, passing through the open legs and hitting the shield of the drone behind it. The sixth and seventh shots scrapped the first drone and drained the shields of the second. Two more shots had its shields down, and another had it scrapped.

The drones moved fast, and unlike last time they were more intent on getting around him rather than focusing fire, as Jorge found out when the last attempted to slip past his non-gun side. It quickly found out that Jorge weighed a significant amount, and that he could bring said weight to bear much faster than it had calculated as the typical reaction time for humans.

Jorge turned back from the crushed drone, eyeing the hallway for any more potential ambushers. There were none. Turning around, Jorge caught sight of the last drone as it fell sparking to the floor in a pair of shotgun blasts. He swept the hall one last time, and checked his motion tracker and HUD, looking for IFF's and any potential missed drones- strange that they had not faced any rocket drones. Perhaps the efforts by the Alliance to shut things down remotely had managed to partially work?

"Negative contacts, Lieutenant," he reported.

"Right. Everyone find a server and destroy it," Alenko ordered.

The servers were built in to the base floor structure, their power cables and network connections hidden beneath their feet, bolted down to the floor. It likely had an accountant screaming for mercy somewhere, destroying two dozen extremely expensive servers, but Hackett had been clear; lives were more valuable than hardware. The easiest, fastest, and least exposed method of disabling the servers was to shoot them.

So that's what they did.

Jorge walked past Tali as she began shotgunning a server with a vengeance. To the left, Alenko was taking precise shots with his pistol as his biotics flared while Williams was switching out her assault rifle. Settling on the last server on the right, Jorge leveled his gun and fired.

Despite the amount of fire pouring into the servers, they did not go down immediately. They had been designed to survive in a vacuum and potential ship operations. The high-strength aluminum exteriors managed to deflect and disperse the force of the first few bullets, but it would not be enough.

Tali was the first to break through, her shotgun cutting a fist-sized hole through the hardened server exterior. Another shot and the server was thoroughly gutted.

_-Activating Defensive Shields-_

Blue hexagons, one dimensional and 1 meter per side, flared into existence in front of the servers.

_The hell…? That wasn't in the security briefing... _

Still, it did not make a difference, not to Jorge. Holding down the trigger, the Legacy simply chewed through the shield before finishing off the server behind it. The delicate hardware snapped and sparked as he turned away.

Williams was taking longer, her assault rifle simply not capable of the power or fire rate of his gun, but before he could lend assistance the server exploded into sparks. The boom of a shotgun and semi-auto chatter of a pistol told him Tali had decided to help Alenko. The last server went up in smoke moments later.

"Well, that was fun," Williams sauntered over with a grin.

+WARNING: VENTING IN PROGRESS. OXYGEN LEVELS CRITICAL+

"Oh shit! Seal up!" Alenko ordered. He had his omni tool out faster than Jorge could ever accomplish. So did Williams, who was frantically tapping her omni with her rifle held awkwardly under one arm.

Tali casually graced a button on her omni tool. Jorge sent a command via his neural link. Both waited for their companions to stop frantically tapping and breathe a sigh of relief, which they both did.

"Wasn't expecting that," Alenko admitted.

Jorge watched Tali's eyes roll underneath her mask. +_We're fighting a rogue VI. Synthetics don't need air. Organics do. It's one of the logical methods of attack,_+ she said over the radio as she headed for the door. It opened, only to present them with a hexagonal blue shield covering the entirety of the doorway.

+_Tali, Ash, use shotguns to break through,_+ Alenko ordered. Two shotgun shots later, the barrier fell. They headed for the other server room.

"You sound like you have had experience with this," Jorge commented. Tali looked back at him as they headed out.

+_We always remember what the Geth did to our people,_+ she said as they entered the other server room. Another shield stood in their way before being blasted into oblivion. The squad took up positions and began blasting the servers.

+_The Geth are always our enemy. So we are always asking ourselves, 'how would Geth attack the Flotilla?' One of the easiest ways is for them to gain computer access, then vent the ship to vacuum,_+ Tali explained as the servers went up in smoke. They fell into formation and headed towards the entrance, their mission complete.

+_Of course, what with every Quarian wearing an environmental suit, our people would stand a better chance of survival than any other species. But each suit only holds a limited supply of air, and with Geth programs in the computer, there is a very real possibility that we would be unable to regain control of the environmental systems._+

"So how do you counter that?" he asked. Tali shrugged as they blasted their way through yet another doorway shield.

+_Pre-emption and preparedness. Every Quarian knows what they need to do in an emergency situation- it comes with growing up on a ship. But the only real way to stop it is by preventing it from happening in the first place. That's why we keep all the salvaged Geth technology on a single, separate ship. That way, if the synthetics stage an uprising, they only truly endanger one small ship, rather than the whole Flotilla._+

Jorge grunted his assent as they blasted through the last barrier and into the airlock. The door to the moon appeared to be fully open, obviously overridden by the VI. The four strode out into the lunar landscape towards the final base.

"What do you think we can expect next?" he asked. Jorge had never really fought a completely digital opponent before. The UNSC did not use a significant number of drones or other robotic combat equipment, and the Covenant had much preferred organic fighters so they could gain honor. It seemed right now that Tali was the most knowledgeable of the group.

+_To be honest, I'm not entirely sure,_+ she told them over the radio. Off to the side, a group of four emerged from the other base and headed for the last holdout of the VI. +_If it was an AI, I would have been expecting more hacking attempts on our omni-tools, but I haven't gotten a single ping from the base computer._+

"What would happen then?"

+_Well, if it could successfully hack our omni-tools, it could theoretically control our hardsuits- shut off air circulation, shut down our eezo cores, even release our suit seals. That's why I had everyone change the data stream to a one-way from the suit to their omni, so that would be impossible. Still, it bothers me that it didn't even try to hack us…_+

"There's still time..."

The team reached the open airlock doors seconds ahead of Shepard's team.

+_Report,_+ Shepard ordered over the radio.

+_All servers at target Bravo have been destroyed. No injuries,_+ Alenko reported.

+_Good. Jorge, Wrex, you two are through first, breach and clear and then move- the rest of us are right behind you._+

The airlock was empty, as was the initial room behind it. They had to blast their way through shield barriers, but nothing challenged them otherwise.

Halfway down the corridor to the main room, that changed.

The door at the end opened to reveal no shield, and a rocket drone flanked by two gun drones.

"Contact!" Jorge sang, even as they opened fire. Jorge's eyes widened as he saw the rocket racing for him.

Only his superhuman speed and the fact that rockets traveled slower than he was used to allowed him to dodge, sandwiching Wrex against the wall of the tight corridor. The rocket, aimed at his chest, comfortably passed straight over Tali and Shepard and continued down the corridor, detonating against the far wall of the initial base room.

Jorge didn't wait to see. Wrex violently pushed him off, and Jorge used that momentum to right himself and open fire, his shields and Wrex's winking from the impacts of the gun turrets.

For half a second, Jorge expected they would win this ambush- his shields were not draining fast enough for him to be considered 'vulnerable', he was about to destroy the major threat (the rocket drone was sparking from the bullets that had hit its shield- based on previous experience, another half-second and it would be destroyed), and there were no other visible threats.

Then two rocket drones and another gun drone bounced up on their tripods and opened fire, one rocket for him, one for Wrex.

He calculated the trajectory and winced this time. The rocket was still fired at his chestplate, but this time it had been fired from a downward angle. If he dodged this time, a chancy proposition in itself in the confined space of the tube-like corridor, it would just go past him- and hit Shepard. He grit his teeth and resigned himself to taking the hit as the first rocket drone was destroyed.

Beside him, glowing blue from the biotic barrier he had just wrapped around himself, Wrex made another gesture. Gravity by the drones twisted, and the drones suddenly found themselves in an artificial zero-g environment. This temporarily overloaded the internal computer as it attempted to compensate for the new environment, preventing the drones from firing.

It did not stop the two rockets already on their way.

The first slammed into his shields and detonated, the microcharge draining the rest of his shields and staggering him slightly, leaving him vulnerable.

The other hit the bulky krogan almost on the head plate. Jorge was impressed- the biotic barrier, while now clearly on its last legs, had held.

+_Back to the room, now!_+ Shepard ordered over their private comm channel. He could see his teammates behind him breaking away as he and Wrex responded to the unspoken order to cover their retreat. A biotic warp tore into one drone as they began backing down the hallway, and the Legacy racked another kill as Jorge tightened his stance, presenting his up-armored side to the enemy, rounds pinging off his Mjolnir armor system.

Then things got worse.

More drones appeared in the doorway, rocket and gun, and charged down the hallway, firing as they went. Like a mechanical wave, they accelerated down the hallway with murderous intent.

+_Get clear! Get clear!_+ Shepard was shouting. But, two steps from the doorway, all Jorge had eyes for was the myriad of microrockets aimed at him.

Two steps back, he was clear to maneuver, and turned as a rocket screamed by his head, just over the up armor.

Spartan time graced him with a view of a single rocket coming straight for his chest. There was no time to duck or dodge, barely even time for him to curse inside his own head before it hit his unpainted Grenadier chestplate and blasted him off his feet.

The next moment he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings, his ears ringing and his chest throbbing. The confusion lasted only a moment before his training took over.

_Situation: dangerous, hostiles charging. Need to help teammates suppress._

_Personal assessment: Limbs functional and responsive. Slight trouble breathing, after effects of concussive charge to chest, but functional. Mjolnir appears to be functional. I am combat capable._

_Priority: Gun. Fight. _

Jorge shook his head and looked for his gun.

He found it a convenient arms length away.

Jorge grabbed his gun, stood, and evaluated the combat situation.

It was chaos. The drones, while some had fallen, had breached the doors and were in the process of engaging the team members in deadly duels. Overloads were going off everywhere. Liara, Alenko and Wrex were wreathed in biotic coronas, and at various stages of unleashing their mass-changing abilities in all different directions. Tali and Garrus had their omni tools alight, shotgun and assault rifle in hand as they attempted to take down the mechanical attackers. Williams had her shotgun in one hand and her pistol in the other, using perhaps the most bizarre form of dual-wielding Jorge had ever seen to take down the rocket drone that was nearly point blank and attempting to tag her with a rocket. Shepard seemed almost calm as she kicked one drone while turning her assault rifle point-blank at another.

There were more coming down the hallway. Jorge didn't hesitate.

Shields sparked. Down the hallway, three drones managed to enter the fray before Jorge began blowing them to bits. Around him, drones fell, and teammates shouted across the comm channel. To his left, Tali hacked a rocket drone, which immediately turned upon its fellow drones with a vengeance. Williams dispatched her rocket drone without taking fire, but the moment she turned to the next gun drone her shotgun overheated; cursing, she threw the useless weapon at her new foe, knocking it back long enough for her to score several shots with the pistol and allow her assault rifle to start unfolding in her hands. A drone exploded in an overload just as it lined Jorge up- he shouted a quick thanks over the comm to Garrus even as he poured fire down the hallway at the other drones attempting to join the battle.

One managed to slip past his killzone, only to be frozen- Liara with a stasis effect. She slumped, looking tired. Before another drone could take advantage of her exhaustion, Wrex blew it to pieces with a warp. He roared a war cry and turned on a drone that was firing into his hump from behind, moments before it exploded- Alenko's overload.

Drone after drone came. Drone after drone fell to the frantic actions of the team. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

The team caught their collective breaths, guns at the ready as they tried to figure out if that really was the end of the attack or if the VI was just toying with them.

+_Wrex, cover the door. Everyone, status,_+ Shepard ordered.

+_I believe I am alright,_+ a somewhat shell-shocked sounding Liara reported.

+_Ready, Shepard,_+ Tali said. And so on and so forth.

"Combat ready, Commander," Jorge reported last. He saw Shepard raise an eyebrow at that.

+_We all saw you get knocked flat on your ass by a missile, and you're fine?_+ she asked questioningly.

Jorge just shrugged. "All systems reporting fine, ma'am. I'm still combat capable."

Shepard shook her head. +_Bend down, I want to see your chest plate._+

He obeyed, and she examined the upper part of the armor, right under his head- right where the missile had hit. The paint was gone, and there were obvious scorch marks, but it appeared the micromissile had been high-explosive as opposed to armor piercing- no one saw any major damage to the upper chest plate, only char marks and a new set of scratches and small divots. She let him stand back up.

+_That's some major armor there, Jorge,_+ she said admiringly. He gave a tilt of his head and a grin- if only she knew. This armor had saved his life many, many times.

+_Alright, let's keep moving people. We've got a computer to shut down, stay alert for more drones. Wrex, Jorge, you have point again._+

+_Shepard!_+ Tali called out. +_Shepard, that was the entire base's complement of drones!_+

+_It threw them all at us at once?_+ Alenko asked.

+_Right. Jorge, Wrex, you have point, I want Jorge to stop in the next room and keep our exit clear. Just because we think we've destroyed all the drones doesn't mean there aren't more, alright people? Good, move out!_+

There were no drones this time. In fact, from the chatter he heard over the radio, it seemed as though the VI had nothing left to throw at them, only the annoying little shields that it had put between doorways and in front of the severs. One by one, he heard the team call out as they fell. Nothing answered their domination of the final base.

A burst of static on his channel caused him to wince just as the final server was destroyed. The VI was now effectively hobbled, its processors destroyed, restricted now to the hard drives and memory it was contained on.

As the group came back from the server rooms, chatting idly in a relaxed yet still guarded manner, Jorge fell into easy step with Tali near the back.

+_I wish the Geth were this easy. If we could do to the Geth what we just did here, the Quarians would have our home world back within a standard year!_+ she told him over the public comm. Jorge chucked at her enthusiasm, as did several others over the comm.

"One step at a time, Tali. One step at a time."

They exited the final base with the satisfaction of a job well done.

-{[]}-

Alright.

Been a while, everyone. September was the last update.

Honestly, I can't promise a large pickup in speed, for multiple reasons. First, work. Work takes time, which sucks. But, since it's keeping me fed, I can't complain.

Second, is a slowdown in drive. I haven't ever stopped thinking about this story, but there have been times where I have found myself unable to write- I know WHAT to write, I just... don't want to write when I could surf the internet or something. That comes and goes- I powered through the last fifteen hundred words in a grand total of one day, which was more writing than the last few weeks combined.

Third, is that I have started a side project. You've been waiting patiently for this chapter, so I feel it's necessary to tell all my faithful readers that this is not my sole project anymore. This is both good and bad news; on the good side, it has upped my writing pace significantly, as I'm not just thinking about one story all the time. On the downside, I am splitting the freetime I have between two separate stories now. So, I will be posting that story on my account here at fanfiction as well, and once it's published you can probably guess where I published it first.

Once again, I promise you this: I will finish this story. I will never stop writing until I have finished at least ME1 storyline, and hopefully all the way through ME3 storyline. The updates may be spotty, they may be long, but I will keep plugging away at this story one word at a time if I have to.

And on that note, thank you everyone! I hope you enjoyed my humble little story, and I hope you continue to enjoy it in the future!


	24. Chapter 22- Loose Ends

-_All hands, this is Shepard. We've encountered a ship adrift in this system, the IFF identifies it as the MSV Cornucopia. There is no distress call, but the ship is registered to ExSolar Shipping and was listed as missing nearly three months ago on a run near the Purseus Veil. I'm assuming the worst case here, and that the ship was attacked and boarded by the Geth. Ground team, prepare for boarding operations, all hands to battlestations in one hour. That is all.-_

Maroon Sea, the Caspian system. One of three explored systems linked to the relay connecting them together. Jorge was not certain why they were here at all. In his mind, they should be searching for Saren.

Unfortunately, the trail had gone cold. There was no trace of the rogue SPECTRE. After dealing with the Alliance situation on the Moon, they had found themselves adrift in terms of objectives, and as much as Jorge would simply love to hunt down Saren, without information on where he was, it would be nothing more than a waste of time. Worse, they couldn't do anything about it- the task of sniffing out Saren was a problem for Intelligence, not Shepard.

So, with nowhere to go and nothing to do, the Commander had decided to utilize her newfound freedom as a SPECTRE to check out some interesting tidbits she had found during the attack on Feros. Jorge and the rest of the ground team had been given the info, and he had to admit it was both vague and potentially terrifying.

_Samples._ Samples had been sent by Exo-Geni to two separate locations within the Maroon Sea cluster. One seemed more official company business, like sending samples out to a lab. The other seemed more clandestine. The real question was... samples of what?

Given what they had found on Feros, and what Exo-Geni had been so interested in hiding... the answer was 'nothing good'.

Personally, Jorge liked this turn of events. He felt invested in the mission, having been a part of the team that discovered it. All too often with the UNSC, the report would simply vanish into thin air. For some of the more important concerns that he, and later Noble Team, turned up, he was certain others had been sent to take care of the issue he had brought up. Other times, he doubted anything had been done- one had to prioritize during wartime, after all. Either way, Jorge never got to see such things again, not even through heresay.

This time, though, it looked like he would be able to see something through, start to finish. It gave him a certain amount of pride. He could look back, and see the fruits of his labors, and smile, because he knew he had done his best and something meaningful had come from it.

He didn't get to do that very often.

Jorge got off his bunk and went to his armor locker, pulling out the pieces of his Mjolnir. It looked much better with a good coating of paint on it; the Alliance had sent along matches to his original colors, and with a little help from Williams, Alenko, Garrus and Tali, they had finished the job that the Alliance had started. The result was that if Jorge didn't know better, he would have said it was brand new. It wasn't, of course, but it mostly looked the part now.

Pulling out the undersuit, he began the arduous process of getting the most advanced and powerful armor in the galaxy on.

-{[]}-

"You know, much as I like having all you guys in my cockpit, it's getting kind of crowded in here," Joker commented.

"How long 'till we dock, Joker?" Shepard asked.

"Docking in thirty seconds, Commander," he replied. "Not like its hard. Is it wrong for me to ask for a bit of a challenge every now and then?"

"Joker, as talented as you are, I'm not sure I ever want to see you 'challenged'," Shepard replied. "Alright people, helmets on, seal up!"

"C'mon Shepard, is it too much to ask for a little bit of excitement in your workplace every now and then?"

"That's exactly what I'm worried about, Joker. The problem is, your workplace is my home too, and I don't define excitement the way you do," she shot back wryly.

Everyone shared a chuckle at that while Joker grumbled good naturedly. A slight thud signalled the dock was completed.

"All right people, we don't know what we're going to find. All hails have gone unanswered, and the craft is drifting. Assume nothing. Jorge, Williams, you're first through, clear the airlock, keep an eye out for civilians and hostiles."

"Yes ma'am."

"Yes ma'am!"

Jorge and Williams stepped into the _Normandy_ airlock and it sealed behind them-Shepard was taking no chances.

_-Equalizing interior pressure with exterior atmosphere-_

The door slid upwards, and Jorge prepared himself for the worst possible thing he could think of- an Elite with a sword just waiting on the other side of the door, as it happened. Beside him, he saw Williams readying her shotgun.

Thankfully, the door opened to nothing. Jorge and Williams moved out smartly, covering corners as they entered the freighter proper. It opened to a large room with some of the ever present crates, but there was not a soul to be seen, living or dead.

Jorge checked his omni tool as Williams continued to check corners. Breathable air, Earth standard with no toxins present.

"Commander, Kadar. Entrance is clear, air is breathable. No sign of anyone yet, friendly or hostile," he reported over the comm. He recieved a nod from Williams- area clear.

+_Good, we're coming over.+_

The _Normandy_ airlock opened, allowing the rest of the team off the ship. Shepard made a beeline for him.

"Right. Manifests indicated a large amount of vacuum sensitive cargo onboard, and the next chamber is the pressurized cargo hold. That means close quarters, everyone, so be prepared. Jorge, you stay here secure the airlock, everyone else, with me!"

Jorge watched the rest of the team file through the next doorway to cargo hold. Internally, he shrugged. It was times like these he really needed armor and a gun that weren't so big and bulky. He'd had it once, long ago, back when the Spartans had been essentially a black ops unit, and the Spartans had been able to use their preferred weapons. Personally, he had always been a fan of the MA5 series. That old bullpup rifle had a deep clip, hit like a brick and was tough enough to be used like a club when necessary. A good, solid assault rifle, so much so that the design had only received minor modifications over the course of the war.

Still, that had gone away with his inclusion into Noble Team as a heavy weapons expert. Given the bulky yet powerful upgraded Mark IV and a machine gun to match, he was no longer as efficient at CQB as he once was. The gun was heavy and awkward, the armor so large that he was not surprised Shepard hadn't asked him to go- hell, he may well not fit between containers without compromising his combat effectiveness. Getting stuck wouldn't be very helpfu-

+_Shit, husks!_+ Shepard called out over the intercom.

+_Don't let them get close!_+

_+Biotics, keep them the hell away from us, whatever it takes! Tali *grunt* get behind us! Soldiers up front, biotics behind and techs do whatever the hell you ca-+_

Jorge heard the telltale sound of an electrical discharge in the background. For a few moments after, only the hissing of an open comm channel sounded.

+_-Shit. Is that all of them?+_

_+Yes, Shepard.+_

_+Good. Move out, we have to make it to the cockpit. Keep your eyes peeled for more husks everyone.+_

"Ma'am. You need me?" Jorge asked over the radio.

Shepard laughed bitterly. +_Jorge, these crates are packed so tight that in some places we can't walk side by side and Wrex is just barely squeezing through. No way you'd make it through without some major restacking. Keep the _Normandy _safe, we'll be back soon enough.+_

"Yes ma'am."

Jorge listened over the radio as the team was ambushed a second time. He heard them fight off the husks, no casualties yet. Having three biotics along appeared to be helping matters considerably, allowing the team to cut the husks down with relative impunity, but everyone knew it would only take one mistake and it could be all over.

They had just been ambushed a third time, with Jorge unable to do anything but listen in, when the cargo doors slid open to admit three very familiar figures.

Husks. They had clearly once been human, just like their counterparts on Eden Prime. Now they were a twisted mockery of life, eyes glowing a lifeless cybernetic blue as tubes and other pieces of metal jutted from their blackened bodies.

Jorge, alert, wasted no time. He opened fire just as the door finished sliding open. The shields on the cyborgs were strong though, and all three took half a dozen steps before they failed. The front one took a bullet to the skull and was knocked down, yet still moved on the ground.

Still, Jorge focused fire on the new frontcomer. The Legacy spat round after round, and one second and ten rounds later the cyborg was blasted off course when a round hit something particularly dense within the chest area instead of going straight through.

The final husk had begun to spark blue, no doubt charging up the electrical attack that he had encountered on Eden Prime, when it too became a victim of Jorge's gun. The Legacy shredded the upper torso and cybernetics this time, and the husk collapsed to the floor without an upper body.

The charge taken care of, the other two husks were easily dispatched with a few accurate bursts. Jorge watched dispassionately as the bodies began to break down before his very eyes. Almost like the creepers. Perhaps they were related?

"Kadar here ma'am. I just repelled a husk attack on the airlock," he reported over the radio.

+_Good job Jorge. We've made it to the cockpit, the techs are poking around the computers but so far it's not looking good. We'll be back to the _Normandy _in ten, keep your guard up.+_

Ten minutes later found the group trudging into the _Normandy_ decontamination chamber. They couldn't all fit at once, so Jorge, Shepard, Tali and Williams waited while the rest of the team entered the ship.

"What happened, Commander?" he found himself asking. She shook her head angrily.

"Can't tell for certain, but the logs say the crew found an artifact of some sort. Right before they piloted the ship directly into the Veil. But with the three husks you killed added to the ones we encountered, that accounts for the bodies of the entire crew," she grimaced.

"The Geth must have seized the vessel, huskified the crew, then set it adrift as a trap after it came into their space," Tali theorized.

"Might have worked if we hadn't been the first ship to get here," Williams chimed in. "I mean, normal civvie vessel, they pull alongside to help, don't take precautions and have no weapons... bam, husks kill everyone and take over two ships. Scary stuff."

Machines using scare tactics? He knew a fair few AI's that would do such a thing, and a fair few others that wouldn't- an illogical waste of resources, one with no guarantee for results, they would have evaluated. Resources that could have been better spent on other avenues of attack. True, the Geth were AIs and thus had their own personality, but this didn't really seem their style...

"Have they ever done this before?" he asked aloud.

Tali snorted. "Yes. My people keep a close eye on the Veil, and it seems that every few years some ship will get too close and will never be heard from again."

"But most don't get set adrift as a floating trap, right?"

"...No. Now that I think about it, I have never heard of a ship captured by Geth being released before," Tali murmured.

"They've changed," Shepard said. "I guess the Geth aren't content with leaving us alone anymore."

The ground team entertained that sobering thought as they entered the decontamination chamber.

-{[]}-

_Cerberus_.

The three-headed dog, guardian of the underworld from Greek mythology.

More recently, the name of a human-supremacist group under the control of 'The Illusive Man'. Classified as a terrorist group by the Alliance military.

Most recently of all, responsible for the slaughter of a human research outpost in the Matano system in the Maroon Sea Cluster.

Jorge hadn't been a part of the ground team, but he had heard every word thanks to his position next to Joker, monitoring them. A whole research team. Thirty scientists, turned into husks by Dragon's Teeth- more than likely the 'samples' that had been shipped to Cerberus by someone in Exo-Geni.

If this had been his home, the UNSC, whoever this was would be found, then executed on the spot. With the Covenant bearing down on them, the UNSC did not have time or energy to spare on people who killed their fellow humans. As it was, they would likely never be found, never held responsible, and all Exo-Geni would get was a slap on the wrist. Personally, Jorge preferred the UNSC method.

After that rude surprise, Shepard was taking no chances with the next target. Especially not with a vague and generic distress signal that was coming from the location of the Exo-Geni research facility. That's why Jorge found himself stuffed into the Mako with Liara and Alenko.

Shepard was, for once, using common sense in her driving. The Exo-Geni base was set on a high valley, and from the ground floor it was a very steep climb. He had been expecting for her to simply ignore the incline and ram straight up it, but instead he found himself sedately climbing up a convenient winding road. Which was nice, because that meant he wasn't hanging on to the cargo straps to prevent himself from becoming a wrecking ball.

He knew it wouldn't last, so he enjoyed it while he could.

They crested the hill and successfully found the research facility. And a little something else as well.

"Targets, twelve o'clock!" Shepard called out. From his space in the cargo section, Jorge couldn't see what was happening. The dialogue was enough though.

"Creepers! What are they doing here?" Alenko asked no one in particular as he shot something outside.

"I think we have found what Exo-Geni meant by 'samples'," Liara commented.

"Let's hope that was ALL they meant by 'samples'," Shepard muttered over the comm. "Alright everyone, seal up, shoot the creepers on sight."

With the creepers external to the structure taken care of, the team moved towards the research facility. Jorge went first through the airlock, followed by Liara.

"The air is breathable," Liara reported. "There could still be someone alive in here."

"You heard her, everyone keep a watch for survivors. Jorge, you have point, move."

They entered the first room to find creepers. No one was surprised. Jorge immediately opened fire- he had had Garrus uninstall the armor piercing mod before the mission had started, and the results were satisfactory. Especially when Liara conjured a singularity out of thin air, trapping the remaining creepers in midair and allowing Jorge and Shepard to shoot them with impunity.

"Was there any intel on how many samples got shipped here?" Jorge asked before they moved to the main room.

"Not that we have. And knowing Exo-Geni, they would deny it all if we asked them," Shepard said cynically. "I just hope there's some people left alive. Move out."

There were more creepers in the main room, once again to no one's surprise. Jorge was beginning to truly appreciate the power of biotics. Against a melee oriented enemy like these creepers, the simple ability to keep them at a range turned what could have been a disaster into shooting fish in a barrel. It wasn't even fair.

She may have picked this team to go against husks, but creepers were practically the same thing and so the team cut through them like a scythe through wheat, leaving nothing but piles of foul-smelling decomposing creepers in their wake.

"Beacon's this way, Commander," Alenko said, omni alight. All still had their helmets on and suits sealed despite the breathable air- the stench from the decomposing creepers was a powerful thing. There were no more marked hostiles, but no one knew if there truly were any more creepers lurking around, so caution was taken.

Alenko led the team to a hallway, then took a left at a junction and opened the door.

"Rescuers? Thank God!" came a feminine voice.

There were survivors. No more than a sixteen, half of which were in plainclothes and half with hardsuits and guns standing behind a very makeshift and desperate barricade. Shepard took off her helmet as she strode into the room with the rest of the team. Jorge followed, allowing the machiine gun to drop to a dangle at his hip.

"See? I told you somebody would come to investigate that signal," the woman told a man to her right. He grumbled but did nothing else.

"My name is Doctor Ross. Chief ExoGeni researcher at this facility," she introduced. "We've been trapped in this room for nearly a week now. We're almost out of food and water- you got here just in time!"

"Commander Shepard, Alliance military. I need to know what's going on here. Why is this place crawling with Thorian creepers?"

"How do you know about the Thorian?" she asked defensively. Jorge just let out a chuckle as he dropped his gun gently to the floor. Shepard may have been the one asking the questions, but most of the eyes in the room were on him. He knew the ones with guns and hardsuits were sizing him up, and most didn't like their odds. The other scientists simply stared with curiousity and perhaps a little awe- it wasn't often you saw someone of his stature after all.

In other words, everything was normal.

"We stopped by Feros. Found the Thorian. Killed the damn thing," Shepard summed up.

"Our secret's out, then," Ross replied warily. "No point in my lying now. You already know the worst.

"The creepers here were created using altered samples from the specimens on Feros. We discovered a way to turn them into docile, obedient servants," she said, pride in her voice. "Everything was going fine until nearly a week ago. Then, all the creepers suddenly went berserk! Only a handful of us made it back to the safety of this room!"

"Why the generic distress beacon?" Kaiden asked. "Shouldn't you have, you know, told someone there were hostiles down here?"

"That's all we had," she shrugged. "This is a closed-communications base. ExoGeni was worried about spies from rival corporations, or someone revealing our activities to the authorities. We have no direct communication to the outside. All we had was the emergency beacon- it sends a general distress signal to the ExoGeni site on Feros."

"Those words don't exactly fill me with confidence about ExoGeni's motives," Shepard said. Doctor Ross flinched as though struck.

"Look... I know what we did here was wrong. I'll admit that. But it's over now. There's no sense in reporting this to the authorities, right?"

"Doctor Ross, some would consider what ExoGeni has done treason. Given the nature of the experiments here and on Feros, this is going to the authorities, one way or another," Shepard said tightly.

"Be reasonable. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. How does it help anyone if I end up in jail?" She sighed bitterly. "Normally ExoGeni would have my back, but it sounds like they're going to have their hands full cleaning up the mess on Feros."

"But, I've got money. A nice little emergency fund I set up. It's yours if you let us go," she offered.

"I've heard enough," Jorge snapped behind his helmet. He brought the Legacy up to firing position at his hip, pointed right at this 'Doctor Ross', even as he tightened his stance.

THAT spurred some reactions throughout the room.

The scientists all stepped back, confusion and fear written upon their faces. The mercenaries were slow on the uptake, but eventually brought their weapons to bear on the team. Beside him, Alenko and Liara simply looked at him in shock- though Alenko was quick on the draw when the mercenaries managed to get their weapons up, and Liara flared her corona in preparation once she realized this could turn out ugly.

Shepard though...

"Jorge STAND DOWN!"

Her voice cracked like a whip. And Jorge obeyed like the soldier he had become. He yanked his gun off target and towards the ceiling, still prepared to lower it in case of hostilities but now not directly threatening the Doctor. The result was that, though most of the room still had their weapons drawn, they were lowered.

"What the HELL was that, soldier!?" Shepard demanded, stepping in front of him imperiously. He noticed she hadn't even drawn a single one of her weapons, not even a pistol.

"I refuse to participate in bribery, Commander," Jorge growled out. His eyes were still locked on the Doctor from behind his helmet, and even if she couldn't see them she quite clearly knew she was the focus of his anger given that his helmet was pointed straight at her.

"And what exactly do you propose I do about it, _Operations Chief!?_" she demanded of him.

Jorge grit his teeth and remained silent. He had already gotten into enough trouble here, he didn't need to add fuel to the fire by telling everyone his personal opinion that she should shoot the Doctor for her attempted bribery.

Shepard nodded at his silence. "Good. I don't want to hear another word out of you."

"Now," she turned around, facing the now very cautious scientists and mercenaries. "I am not here to arrest you, I am not here to accept your bribes, Doctor Ross," she said in a hard voice. The Doctor gulped at that.

"I am here to figure out just what the hell ExoGeni meant when they said they sent 'samples' to the base in this system. And now that I know what is going on around here, I am going to offer a solution."

She pointed a finger at the Doctor. "You, are going to turn evidence against ExoGeni."

"B-but ExoGeni-"

"Has. Abandoned. You! You said it yourself not one minute ago. Now, we have been to Feros, we know _exactly_ what the hell was going on, and I will be _damned_ if I don't see some recompense given to those colonists. But not from you. You aren't at fault here, as twisted and buried as your personal moral compass may be. So you are going to help me, by turning on ExoGeni, got it?"

"B-but the company, ah, _liquidates_ its black sectors!" she protested desperately.

"This matter went all the way to the Council. They will give you protection. Now, are you going to sit there blubbing like a fish out of water or are you going to do the right thing like you should have been doing all along?" Shepard demanded.

It took several gulps for the Doctor to raise her head, but when she did, Jorge felt his opinion of her rise slightly- her eyes were hard and determined.

"I'll do it," she whispered.

Shepard smiled warmly as she clapped the woman on the shoulder. "You did the right thing."

-{[]}-

As you may or may not have noticed, I've slowed down quite a bit on this story. So, I'm going to be trying some new things to get my writing up, and more focused on Jorge.

I plan fun things for next chapter. See you then!


	25. Chapter 23: Downtime

"NO! Not that way Shepard!"

"Turn! Turn!"

"Don't worry, I've got this. We can make it-"

_crash_

Jorge hung on to the cargo straps in the back of the Mako like his life depended on it as the vehicle became a tumble dryer. It was like zero-grav training all over again, the way it was spinning- only his enhanced brain, capable of tracking the horizon whenever it was in the front windows, let him know which way was up; beyond that, the next ten seconds of Jorge's life was an endless stream of buffeting as the Mako rolled down the mountain.

After what felt like an eternity, but in reality was less than a minute, the Mako stopped throwing them around and came to rest.

Upside-down.

"We can make it, riiiiight," Williams groaned from her chair. She was still strapped in, her hair hanging to the Mako ceiling. She was looking a little green.

"Shepard, I knew you were a bad driver," came Garrus's flanged groan, "But I never thought you were _this_ bad."

Jorge simply let himself come to rest against the ceiling- now the floor- of the Mako. He'd been in worse, though usually the light troop carriers of the UNSC were open-topped, meaning that he was usually thrown from the vehicle when it crashed rather than being tumble-polished.

Shepard grumbled to herself as her hands played over the console.

The six wheeled infantry carrier rocked as Shepard manipulated the gravitational controls for the small eezo core. While not large enough to completely negate the mass of the Mako, the small eezo core made life considerably simpler on heavy gravity worlds, where it could be used to lighten the mass of the vehicle and lessen the strain of moving, and on low gravity worlds, where it could be used to increase the mass of the vehicle so that it would stay on the ground. A system in the Mako could also be activated to keep the Mako upright, allowing for truly staggering climbing angles to be achieved.

Unfortunately, all the twisting of gravity that the little core was doing to try to right the stricken vehicle was beginning to make Jorge nauseous. The Mako rocked back and forth gently, but it was quite clear that the vehicle was not going to turn over by itself.

The Mako was stuck.

"All right, suit up, everyone. We've got breathing hazards, so full suit seal, but beyond that no other environmental hazards. Jorge, get ready to get that hatch open.

Casbin, in the Hong system of the Armstrong Nebula. Latest in a line of meandering missions that Shepard had led them on. They were beginning to blur together, honestly- there had been no major combat challenges for him in the last two weeks of doing nothing.

And there was still no sign of Saren.

+_Everyone sealed? Right, Jorge, go ahead. Everyone out, let's see what we have to do here.+_

The world of Casbin was very young. Hot, humid, with an atmosphere mainly of nitrogen and carbon dioxide, with no animal life to speak of, it was slowly being covered in a great green mat of lichen and algae. These small lifeforms would eventually make oxygen. And from there, true life could begin to flourish. The beginning of a new world.

Unfortunately, the Geth did not care about the designation of 'Sanctuary World' the Council had placed on it, and had set up a listening post on the world, along with several other worlds in the Armstrong Nebula region. Hackett had ordered Shepard to take out the listening posts and drive the Geth back into the Veil.

Which only really worked when they could take out the listening posts in the first place. Which required the Mako not to be stuck.

"Area clear, Commander," Jorge reported. Which wasn't all that surprising considering they were still several miles away from the geth outpost at the base of a mountain.

+_Good. Now get over here and help us right this thing.+_

A quick climb around the stricken vehicle revealed that it was surprisingly intact- no doubt the lightened mass once it had started rolling had saved the armored hull from becoming too stressed and breaking. Even the wheels were surprisingly intact, spinning gently in the air. Looking around, the Mako had wedged up against a large rock, nearly as tall as Jorge, on one side, and was tilted too far onto the rock side to managed to swing its weight the other way.

+_Great. None of us are biotics, how the hell are we going to do this?_+

Shepard was attempting to lift the downed, rock side.

+_Get over here and help me! If we can lift it enough, it might be enough for the eezo core to flip it the rest of the way!+ _Shepard responded.

Jorge picked his way around the Mako to find Williams, Shepard and Vakarian desperately heaving at the lip of the vehicle. They managed to get it nearly two inches- not quite enough. It was simply too heavy for them- the eezo core, even maxed out, would leave the total mass at just over 3000kg. Quite a heavy weight.

For most people.

Jorge laid a hand on Shepard's shoulder, drawing her attention.

"I've got this, Commander."

With the rest of the team standing back, Jorge gently ran his hands under the lip of the Mako, getting a feel for the hold he would have. Setting himself, knees bent, Jorge grabbed the lip and prepared himself.

+_No way. There's no way he can lift this by himself, we're going to need the Normandy to get down here with the biotics to get this thing righted,+_ Williams muttered over the radio.

Jorge gave a little grin beneath his helmet. "Oh ye of little faith..."

In one smooth motion, Jorge lifted the side of the vehicle, going from squatting to fully standing. With the Mako now tilted significantly the other way, the eezo core kicked in, rocking the Mako away from his upraised hands and onto the side of the tires.

For one crazy moment, he thought he might have to catch it as it came back down on him, but the little eezo core let loose another gravitational eddy and rocked the Mako heavily back onto its tires.

_+No way...+_ Williams said, disbelief in her voice.

Jorge rubbed his hands together with a smile as he headed back to get his gun.

+_Remind me never to piss you off,_+ Garrus intoned over the radio.

+_Alright, people, load up and run diagnostics, let's go get those geth,+ _Shepard ordered, heading back towards the hatch.

_+I STILL don't believe it! How the hell did you get so strong, Jorge?!_+ Williams asked incredulously.

Jorge shrugged. "Eat your greens. Keep up on your weightlifting."

_+What do you weight lift? Krogan?!+_ she demanded.

Jorge chuckled. "Every morning before breakfast," he joked. There's no way Wrex would ever let him do that.

Williams went silent as she climbed into the Mako after him.

-{[]}-

It was 'night' on the Normandy. Many of the aliens had taken a while to get used to it, the longer hours and days of the Citadel more standard for them, but eventually they had settled down. Wrex was asleep near the lockers, his wheezing breath audible in the darkened stillness of the hanger. Garrus was gone, no doubt in one of the sleeper tubes up one deck, as was Liara and Tali. A token shift manned the core as they headed between systems, secure in the knowledge that nothing could touch them while they were in FTL.

He should have been asleep by now, not staring at the orange glow of his omni tool. He knew he should have been asleep by now. But he couldn't do it. Jorge was so close he could almost taste the victory...

And then it happened. The final piece clicked into place. He was done.

Reach. He had found his home.

It had been many long, hard hours, sifting through spectrum data, gravitational reports, and anything else he could get his hands on. He had started in the wrong system, and found a few others that were almost, but not quite, right as well. But he'd managed to narrow it down. He'd managed to sift through the probe data, and find the one planet that had been haunting him since had come here.

Reach.

How dearly he missed it. He could only hope that his sacrifice to destroy the Covenant Supercarrier had not been in vain.

Where were they now, he wondered. Carter, Kat, Jun, Six- hell, even Emile, that bastard. He missed them all. With the war on, they wouldn't have stayed long on Reach after the Covenant were gone. There would be some new mission, on a new planet... probably with a new Noble Five. Just like Thom had been replaced with Six. He liked Six, but Six would never really replace Thom, or Jeff, or any of the other replacements.

He hoped they were getting on with the new Noble Five, and that the battle against the Covenant was going well. But that was all he could do now. Hope.

Maybe he could see Reach again though. Book a private shuttle of some sort, make the jump, see what it was like now that it wasn't terraformed. It was the original Reach, unsoiled by any human advances. Not like it had ever truly been tamed before, he chuckled. Reach, with its unforgiving mountains and weather beaten forests, was never truly tamed by humanity. Merely tolerant of them.

Jorge shook his head. He had found his home. This... this called for a celebration! One that would happen to be his missed dinner. Jorge stood from his cot, deactivating his omni before heading towards engineering.

_I think I'll try a nice steak meal tonight,_ he thought to himself as he waited for the lift.

In the mess hall, he found he was not the only one of the ground team up. Tali was hunched over her omni tool, so intent that she didn't notice him as he rounded the corner.

It took a few minutes to heat up, which Jorge spent reminiscing about both Noble Team and the other Spartan-II's, but when the microwavable steak dinner was finally ready, he found Tali in the exact same position as before, hunched over, staring at her omni tool. She hadn't even noticed him walk up.

She did, however, jump out of her seat when he set his meal down with a clatter, which he chuckled at gently as he sat down to enjoy his meal.

"You looked pretty focused there, Tali," he idly commented, cutting into the steak.

"I... I was," she said, hand of her racing heart. "Sorry, I don't mean-"

"Relax. I'm not here to chase you off. What were you so interested in you couldn't even hear me come up behind you?"

"It's, ah, something for my Pilgrimage," she admitted, staring at the table. "You probably wouldn't be interested..."

Jorge shrugged as he cut into the juicy steak. "Try me."

"Well... alright."

Tali took a moment to compose herself.

"Ever since the Geth drove us from our homeworld, we have been looking for ways to get it back. Some way, something, that we could use as a weapon to take back our home and defeat the Geth once and for all. We've been waiting for it for over three hundred years now."

Tali looked at her omni tool.

"We know so little about them. We may have created them, but they have been evolving ever since the Exodus. I've seen more about Geth on this mission than most Quarian Marines see in a lifetime, and I've come to realize that we know even less than we thought we did."

She gestured to her omni tool.

"This... this is the transmission that was beamed off world just as we hit the second outpost on Antibaar. The encryption on it is like nothing I've ever seen before. If I can crack it, maybe... Maybe it has something important in it. Something... something that could help the Fleet against the Geth."

"Hate to dash your hopes, Tali, but that was a transmission from a listening post that was under attack. It's either data on fleet movements through the cluster, or it's a call for help from when they realized it was under attack. Decoding the encryption is probably worth something though."

Tali slumped.

"I know. But I can't just go back to the fleet with the encryption."

"Why not? That would be very useful, being able to decrypt enemy communications. I'm sure they'd be happy with that as a Pilgrimage gift," Jorge reassured her through a mouthful of steak.

He could see her fidgeting. Long experience with reading people in armor let him read her like a book; she was nervous. About what, and why, he didn't know. So he waited.

"I... my father... my father is an Admiral on the board. One of the five most powerful Quarians in the entire Flotilla. I can't just go back with something normal. I have to have something... something unique. Something big. Something worthy of the daughter of an Admiral."

Jorge didn't know how to respond to that. Her father was one of the most important persons in the Quarian culture right now. How did you live up to that reputation? That expectation? Jorge finished his steak before he thought of something he could say.

"You know, Tali, when Shepard first offered you a spot on the team, I thought she was making a mistake. You were a civilian with no combat training in my eyes. I didn't think you would be useful in combat. I was wrong."

He put one massive hand on her shoulder.

"Tali, you're a damn fine member of this team, and everyone knows it. The Migrant Fleet are lucky that they have someone so talented, and so dedicated, in their midst, and if they can't see your value, then they sure as hell don't deserve you. But I don't think that would happen. And I think your father would be proud of you no matter what you brought back."

Tali snorted at that, but said nothing.

"Besides, if they don't like your gift, you could just come back and ask Shepard if she wants you help. I'm sure she wouldn't say 'no'."

Tali shook her head.

"I know. I just... I really want to bring back something worthy of my station. Something meaningful."

Jorge chuckled. "Well, you're certainly in the right place for that. We're taking out a string of Geth outposts, we've seen more Prothean artifacts in a month than many see in their lives, and we're chasing after a madman who has an entire army of Geth at his disposal. If there's anything to find, we're going to be the first to find it. So don't you worry, you'll get your gift soon enough, I bet."

_Just like I did._

-{[]}-

"Hey Jorge, could you help me out real quick?" Garrus asked.

Jorge looked down at the two avian feet protruding from under the Mako. Internally, he shrugged, before getting down on one knee.

"What do you need?"

"Shepard and all her- _grunt_- 'shortcuts' have been playing hell with the undercarriage. She came back last time with a rock wedged in the suspension system on the front right tire, and I can't - _grunt_- seem to get it loose. Hoping you might have more luck."

The days continued to drag on, with no word about Saren. They were nearly finished eliminating the Geth listening posts for the Alliance, but there was no further word on what would happen next. Jorge supposed they would keep doing what they had been doing- randomly doing whatever work they managed to find. Annoying and boring, but… there wasn't much else they could do right now.

Jorge slowly got on his back and pulled himself under the vehicle with the turian. While not extremely spacious, the Mako had enough clearance for even his barrel chest to fit under with room to maneuver. Looking at the light source Garrus had, he immediately saw the problem.

Sometime during the last Geth raid, likely after while she was 'exploring', Shepard had managed to spear a thick, long rock right through the primary damper spring for that one tire. It was large enough that it wouldn't come free of the coils on its own, and Jorge saw claw marks where Garrus had vainly tried to grasp and remove it, with no success. But, there was a rather nice handhold sticking out, so if someone could just apply enough force...

"Move," he tapped the turian on the shoulder. Garrus slid himself out from under the vehicle and Jorge slid himself over.

One yank, two yanks- it wasn't coming out. Bracing himself, Jorge grabbed the errant debris in one hand and pushed against the underside of the Mako with the other. Any normal man would have broken their arm, or simply done nothing, but Jorge... the Mako rose an inch or so, enough to relax the spring so that his considerable strength could remove the debris.

"Got it," he said, shoving the piece out from under the Mako.

He was getting too old for this. He may have been a Spartan, but he was over forty as well. He was beginning to wake up some mornings with aches in his joints and-

"Ooohf!"

Jorge let out a startled huff of air as something heavy landed on his chest just as he was about to get up. Something large, heavy, and very _krogan_.

"What's the matter? Can't take it? I thought you bench pressed krogan every morning," Wrex said with a lecherous grin.

Jorge was about to say some very choice words and shove the krogan violently off when a flash of orange off to the side caught his attention.

It was Williams, holding back a snigger with one hand while pointing her omni-tool at the pair. Jorge wondered at why she was just sitting there, pointing her camera-function at the pair when she could be helping him get this damn krogan-

_Oh._

It was a typical marine prank. You hear somebody claiming they can bench press a krogan, you happen to find a krogan and see if it's true. To Jorge, though, it meant something more. It meant she saw him as a brother-in-arms. Or, as the Spartans would think of it, just brothers and sisters. And that forced him to evaluate how he saw the Gunny.

She wasn't close- he hadn't gone through training since he was six with her, he hadn't been through hell with her. But... she had his back. He knew her to be capable. He even knew her to be fun. He enjoyed spending time with the marine.

A friend. That's what she was. Not quite someone he was close enough to call 'sister', but someone he could rely upon all the same.

_What did that make everyone else?_

He was brought out of his lightning-fast thoughts by the resounding chuckle of the krogan on his chest.

Jorge grinned. If Williams wanted to have some fun... well, he could certainly oblige.

Wrex's laughter cut off as he felt himself lifted into the air. Then down again.

"One... Two... Three..."

It wasn't even that hard for Jorge, considering that the old krogan battlemaster was only a few hundred pounds more than himself. Jorge could bench just over an english ton _without_ his armor on. A krogan? It was practically a vacation.

"...Ten!"

Jorge shoved the krogan off him and stood to his feet, making a big show of stretching out like he had just finished a workout.

"Same time tomorrow Wrex?" he asked with a grin.

"I knew you had some fight in you," Wrex chuckled, getting to his feet. "So, you think you're good enough for a real fight?"

Jorge was about to refuse outright when he saw the utterly excited expression on Williams' face.

It had been a long time since he had sparred with anyone capable of even remotely matching him in hand-to-hand...

"You're on, you old lizard," Jorge said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. "But, first, we need some rules, and someplace clear."

Wrex just grinned.

-{[]}-

Jorge and his krogan opponent circled each other, ready, waiting for the next move.

They'd been sparring for twenty minutes now, and had drawn a fair crowd from the off-duty crew and the ground team; Garrus, Tali, Liara, and Alenko stood around the circle, with expressions ranging from mild amusement to worried concern.

Williams, of course, was recording the whole bout on her omni-tool.

Wrex, perhaps tired of waiting or maybe sensing distraction, charged in with huge, meaty hands swinging.

Jorge caught one blow and ducked the other. Using his new leverage, he spun the krogan around and wrapped his hands around Wrex's chest, like a bear hug from behind. The krogan's arms didn't have quite the range of motion to hit him behind the massive hump, and they both knew it. Unfortunately, the krogan was nearly as strong as he was. He also weighed more than Jorge by nearly 75kg. He thrashed, trying to dislodge Jorge even as Jorge held on.

Still, Jorge wasn't trying to bear hug the krogan into submission- he had tried that before, and Wrex had simply jumped backwards. Taken by surprise, Jorge had landed heavily on the floor- and then the krogan had landed heavily on him. He had barely managed to throw the krogan off himself with all the breath knocked from his body.

No, this time he was trying something else. Jorge planted himself, arched his back and proceeded to lift and throw the krogan over his head.

The crowed 'oooh'd. It wasn't often you saw a human suplex a krogan.

That being said, suplexing a krogan wasn't as effective as he had hoped- Wrex, none the worse for wear, was already getting to his feet. Attempting to press his advantage, Jorge darted over deliver a swift kick to the rising krogan.

It wasn't his full strength- both were pulling their punches, one of the ground rules was that they both had to be combat-ready in 20 hours in case Shepard decided to take them to the final Geth listening post- but there was enough power behind the blow to leave a fair bruise. The krogan rolled with it, though, creating a bit of space.

Jorge decided to keep pressing his advantage, and move in for another blow- only to get blindsided when the krogan lashed out with his foot. It didn't connect- Jorge was too fast for that- but it did force him to move away from the krogan, creating space and time once again for him to get up. For now, Jorge let him, and the two began circling each other again.

Jorge was faster, more flexible, and had reach over his opponent. Wrex was easily the tougher of the two, and they were nearly evenly matched when it came to strength, though Jorge had a slight edge there. Both were pulling punches, Wrex wasn't using his biotics and Jorge wasn't attempting to permanently injure his opponent, and so the battle devolved into a fairly even sparring match.

Wrex let out a roar and charged in. He did that often. Jorge waited until the last possible moment, then neatly sidestepped, like a matador to a charging bull. On the way, he stuck out a foot to trip the krogan, and dodged the punch coming for his face-

But Wrex didn't go for the face, instead grabbing the cuff of his collar. With his massive bulk falling, Jorge was dragged down as well, flipping over the krogan and very nearly taking out a crewmember who was standing near the edge of the circle. Both stood slowly and made their way back to the center.

Jorge initiated the attack this time. He darted in and slammed his palm against the krogan's nose. Not with his full strength, mind you, but the area was a relatively sensitive one and it sent the krogan reeling. He followed it up with two lightning-quick gut shots. Wrex, still reeling, threw out a punch aimed for his kidneys, which Jorge caught and-

Wrex slammed his plated head into Jorge's chest in a huge headbutt, knocking Jorge onto his ass. But he was still close enough to the krogan to lash out, and slammed his legs into a hold on the krogan's knees, causing the battlemaster to topple unceremoniously to the floor as well.

"Captain on the deck!"

Jorge shot to his feet and locked himself at attention.

Before him stood Shepard, in casual fatigues. All around her, the crew was at attention, and most were looking distinctly nervous. Fighting, even sparring, wasn't allowed on a ship of this size because it didn't have the proper facilities. And everyone knew it.

Jorge wasn't nervous. Mainly because he knew he was going to get punished for this. But it was worth it. Even Spartans needed to cut loose sometimes.

Shepard stepped closer, arms folded over her chest, examining him closely. No doubt she could see the shiner already forming on his right eye, but she made no comment.

She turned and inspected Wrex as well. Various parts of his body, as well as both eyes, were turning a rather off-putting shade of orange-yellow, no doubt the krogan equivalent of a bruise. Yet he grinned back at her with a gleam in his eye and a deep chuckle in his throat.

"I take it, you both understand I may be taking you on the next Geth outpost mission?" Shepard asked neutrally.

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Of course, Shepard."

Shepard paced back in front of the two of them. She held out her arm, her omni-tool shining to life. Jorge prepared himself for a dressing down, or perhaps even a demotion.

"Good. Continue."

Jorge gawked as Shepard stepped back, the camera function on her omni-tool activated.

Then he got blindsided by a krogan kidney punch.

He retaliated with a kick to the old krogan, forcing him away, and the two began circling as the watching crew began cheering again.

-{[]}-

It was a rare event, the entire ground team eating together. Jorge and Shepard were the ones most usually absent, Shepard due to her duties as the Normandy's Captain, Jorge because he usually ate his meals from a nutri-paste tube and was done with it. Liara was a close third, her study of some of the many ancient Prothean artifacts and data causing her to miss the time, and fourth went to Wrex, because he was a territorial kogan who didn't care what others thought of him. But Williams, Vakarian, Alenko, and Tali usually ate together.

Not tonight.

The whole ground team was assembled at the long table, eating and chatting, as a replay of the sparring match, or as Joker had called it, the Epic Battle of Awesomeness, ran. Meanwhile, a shirtless Jorge ate a chicken dinner while Doctor Chakwas attached ice packs to various bruises across his arms and torso.

"Oh man, this was a good one! Hey, look! Look!" William's pointed.

Jorge chuckled as the recording showed him stun Wrex with a hit to the nose before grabbing the krogan, lifting him nearly to his head, and promptly powerslamming him into the deck. He could almost swear he saw the camera move from the impact.

"You know, this is the first time I've ever seen anyone from another species manage to hold their own in a fistfight with a krogan," Vakarian remarked.

"We could make a killing if we posted this on _Startube_," Williams grinned. "I bet we'd get 1 billion views in record time!"

"How you doing over there, Jorge?" Shepard asked as Williams continued to rant about the fight.

"I'm alright, ma'am."

"The number of icepacks I see on you says otherwise."

Jorge chuckled. "A little bruise never hurt anyone, ma'am. I'm still combat-ready."

Wrex chortled at that with a grin. Shepard scowled at him.

"And as for you, I hope that got whatever is in your head out of there. I need you at tip-top _Battlemaster_ effectiveness, not running around headbutting everything you see like every other krogan we go up against. Yes, I'm talking about Feros. And you two are NOT sparring again, not on this ship," she said sternly.

"Why not?" Vakarian interjected. "It's a good way to blow off steam, Shepard. Turian ships have a dedicated sparring area where the crew can let loose and go at it in a safe manner. Couldn't we set one up in the hanger?"

"Garrus, this is a human ship, not a Turian one. And while I agree that it would likely help people blow off steam, I'm not going to allow it because A, the only ones on this ship with more than rudimentary hand-to-hand are the ones on the ground team, and B, because letting people with that amount of knowledge fight each other is asking for injuries. And if I can't open it to all the crew, I'm not going to open it at all."

A crewmember came up to Shepard and handed her a pad, which she took without thinking and began to read.

Wrex snorted. "Suppose it was fun while it lasted then. You weren't bad, human. Could give most krogan a run for their money."

"I could beat most krogan and give the rest a run for their money," Jorge corrected. He had, after all, just gone toe to toe with one of the greatest warriors the krogan had ever produced. Wrex wasn't known as a krogan Battlemaster for nothing.

Wrex just chuckled. "I like you, human."

"Ash, cut the replay! Everyone listen up!" Shepard commanded. She stood from the table as all the ground teams' eyes turned to her.

"Alright everyone, the time for waiting is over! We just got a top-priority transmission from the Council telling us that there have been sightings of Geth on Noveria. Given that Saren is working with the Geth, it isn't hard to guess that Saren has some interest there. So, we're going to finish off these listening posts, then make a beeline for Noveria. I want everyone-" she shot glares at Wrex and Jorge "-combat ready by then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go inform Joker to pick up the pace."

The table erupted into excited speech as she left, the fight temporarily forgotten. Only one thought went through Jorge's mind.

_Finally._

-{[]}-

That last word applies to me too, I suppose. Took me long enough.

I must say I held on to this chapter for a few days, trying to get it to my liking, but I still don't think its perfect. Ah well, I can't think of anything else.

I'm trying a new direction. Let's see if that helps my writing pace.

As for comments:

I expect to get a lot of comments about Jorge versus Wrex, so the reasoning is AFTER everything else. So keep scrolling.

Yes, some of the dialogue in the last chapter is custom. I always found the resolution to that mission stupid- you can either accept a bribe - for 5000 creds, which is peanuts in-universe in terms of what guns you can buy- or you cannot accept the bribe and everyone dies. So I tried to end it differently.

I really should rewrite this story and update the facts- ex. Jorge is 7'4'' out of armor, 7'8'' armor, which is a little extreme but I can still believe it. however, that means combing over 103,000 words worth of content, and I just want to keep going right now. So rewriting this will be a project for later; likely after it is finished.

For the debate about whether or not Jorge is more loyal to the UNSC or to the Alliance: the issue is moot. There will never come a point in this story where Jorge has to question such loyalties, and I will NOT touch that issue further.

At hattu: yes, he has tons more combat experience. Yes, he has his own opinions. Shepard takes them and makes an informed decision. That said, she has her own opinion as well. And she is a superior officer, so it doesn't matter what he thinks- she says jump, he jumps as high as he can, no questions asked. He's lucky he got a commanding officer that listens to him at all. Emile would totally get pissed off, but Jorge… he's Jorge.

Yes, it IS possible to flip the Mako in ME1. You have to work at it, but it can be done. I have done it.

I will continue to write, slowly but surely. I'm sure all of you can figure out what the next chapter is going to be about, so I ask for your patience, considering I had to split Feros up into three separate parts.

NOW, for Wrex versus Jorge:

First, some context. For those who have never played Mass Effect, a krogan is possibly one of the toughest creatures ever conceived. They evolved on a death world. They have redundant everything- two stomachs, four lungs, two hearts, binary nervous system, four testicles, etc. Even better, it is almost physically impossible to paralyze a krogan, because even if you overcome both nervous systems, their bodies are filled with a neuroconductive fluid, so they can STILL move. Their spines are hidden behind the massive hump of stored fat and fluids, meaning that it is almost physically impossible to kill one from behind. Best of all, their body has a regenerative system that can heal them from incapacitating or even potentially lethal injuries in hours or days. As a bonus, this means that krogan are extremely long-lived- Wrex is a thousand years old or more and still going strong.

Now that you have context, the debate.

Jorge is a 25-year veteran of the Covenant war, plus more years fighting insurrectionists, and a Spartan-II to boot. He is strong, fast, and has enough hand to hand combat training and experience to be considered a black belt. As his bio states, 'Jorge is a living death threat. Nobody messes with Jorge.'

Wrex is a 1300 year old biotic krogan. He has as much, if not more, combat experience than Jorge, by pure virtue of age. He is strong, experienced, and very, very tough.

In a one on one, no holds barred, deathmatch, no armor or weapons allowed fight, Wrex wins 9 times out of ten. Why? Biotics. He has a natural weapon that Jorge can never truly counter. Not only that, but Wrex can literally tough out any attack Jorge makes with his bare hands, because he's a damn krogan. Jorge just can't do enough damage fast enough to take the krogan out

In a one on one, no holds barred, deathwatch, hand to hand WITH armor, Jorge wins 9 times out of 10. The Mjolnir armor is such an epic piece of armor he will almost always kick Wrex's scaly ass.

So, what about when they aren't trying to kill each other? Both pull their punches, neither is trying to seriously harm the other. Jorge is faster, has reach, and is slightly stronger, but Wrex is so tough that he isn't going to get seriously hurt by anything and has enough experience that he can throw a few curveballs Jorge's way.

So the match favors Jorge slightly, but in the end, I estimate it would be an even match.


	26. Chapter 24: Port Hanshan, Noveria

"Grrr stupid..."

Ashley Williams cursed under her breath as she attempted to affix the straps of her armor. This damn armor- she hadn't had a chance on the Citadel to get new armor made for her like Shepard, she'd had to buy a pre-made set from the Normandy requisitions officer. The result was that she hadn't been measured, rather had been given a general size, and the result was that it was a bit tight around the chest and hard to awkward to cinch the straps and latches down properly.

"Allow me."

Ashley started at the deep voice behind her. How in the HELL did he manage to be so quiet?! He was a goddamn giant with enough armor to take a rocket! Firm, armored hands cinched the straps together before Ashley could protest. She was simultaneously flattered by his attention and annoyed because she could do it herself.

"Williams," he whispered to her as he bent down to do another strap. "You know Benezia was sighted here last."

Ashley looked around suspiciously. Wrex and Garrus were over by their lockers, finishing loading up. Tali and Shepard were just entering the elevator to the command deck. A few crewmen were milling around. No one would really overhear them, if they kept it low.

And she had a suspicion what he wanted to talk about.

"Yes," she whispered back as she held her hands out, allowing him to easily continue doing up the rest of her armor.

"You know what could happen," he said softly.

It had been on her mind ever since Liara had come aboard. She was innocent enough, sure, in more ways than one. Very young for an asari, and having spent most of her time in college or alone on a dig site, she was hopelessly naive. But the fact always remained...

She was the first, and only, daughter of Matriarch Benezia, confirmed second to Saren, and accomplice to his crimes. And she had inherited her mother's strength in biotics.

If she turned on them...

But to be honest, she didn't really think that would happen. Liara was just too... dedicated, and helpful, and she had such a terrible poker face that she was an open book- either that or she was the best damn actor Ashley had ever met before in her life.

But there was always that possibility...

"Yes."

"We need to be careful," Jorge said softly as he finished buttoning up her armor. "She could very well be on our side up until she sees Benezia. We need to be prepared for anything."

She knew what he was implying. Ashley honestly hoped it wouldn't come to that. But she was ready.

"Right."

-{[]}-

Jorge and Williams were the last to make it to the cockpit, just as Joker finished docking the ship. The pilot was commenting on the friendly 'welcome'- the dockmaster had been extremely short and to the point, and the tone had made it clear that they were not going to receive a very warm welcome as company to a SPECTRE.

Still, Jorge was relieved at the voice over the intercom. A voice at all meant that the Geth hadn't taken over the compound, nor did the operator seem nervous, as though a gun was pointed at his head. A good sign that all was well, and that the ground team wasn't going to step off the _Normandy_ into a hail of gunfire like Feros.

Probably. Geth were AI, after all, it wouldn't take much to duplicate a voice over a comm system for a lure. It was best to be prepared.

When the airlock opened and Shepard stepped out without going for a weapon and her shields blaring, Jorge relaxed. Machine gun in a one-handed dangle, helmet secured to his hip, Jorge shot a covert glance at the uncovered head of Doctor Liara T'Soni. She looked distinctly nervous, but was attempting to put on a brave face.

It was cold, even in the ship hanger. Noveria was a habitable world, but 'habitable' encompassed a great many conditions; Noveria was icy, with no tropics to speak of and only a small temperate zone. Most of the world was covered in snow and there was only really one season: winter. It was only truly habitable with the help of the latest heating and insulation technology, and even then, it was tenable at best. One may as well have been living on the moon, except the moon didn't have blizzards five times a month.

This inhospitibility, however, did appeal to some. Noveria was not technically a part of Citadel space; run by an independent board, this freedom from regulation allowed large corporations to perform research that would normally be illegal. The conditions on the planet ensured physical espionage, corporate or otherwise, was hard if not impossible; the legal conditions ensured sanctions were not a problem. The perfect mix for letting a company run wild on their own dime, with the Citadel reaping the major benefits while simultaneously allowing them to distance themselves from the questionable practices that were used to obtain said benefits.

They were met in a small reception area right before the security checkpoint by a full squad, armed and armored. Four humans, two with helmets and two not, including their leader, and four turians, no helmets. The lead human, a human with black hair pulled back, had her hands clasped behind her back; the rest had weapons out at rest. A small insignia read 'ERCS'- Elanus Risk Control Services, a company that both had a facility here on Noveria and who was contracted as the main security force for the planet.

"That's far enough," the captain commanded, holding up a hand. The entire group came to a halt, and Jorge took the opportunity to set his gun down.

Even though he was at the back of the ground team, his height allowed him to see Shepard step forward.

"Is there a problem, officer?" she asked.

"This is an unscheduled arrival, I need to see your credentials," the security captain replied sharply.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Shepard asked. Her voice was polite, but hard.

"We're the law around here. Show some respect," replied the unhelmeted blonde woman. The look her own captain shot at her spoke volumes. If the blonde woman noticed, she didn't care.

"I am Captain Maeko Matsuo, Elanus Risk Control Services," the captain introduced. Jorge found it most telling that she had not reprimanded the woman.

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy and Council SPECTRE."

"Load of horseshit," the blonde woman scoffed. "Ma'am."

"We will need to confirm that," Captain Matsuo covered.

The lack of respect set the team on edge, though Shepard seemed to not react to it at all. Jorge saw subtle shifts in the stances of Wrex, Williams, Vakarian and Alenko, readying themselves for a fight. The lack of respect grated on Jorge too, and he fingered his helmet with a frown on his face.

"Also, I should advise you that weapons are not permitted on Noveria," Captain Matsuo continued. "Sergeant Stirling, secure their weapons!"

The blonde woman stalked forward, her face a mask of cold impassivity, as did the rest of the ERCS members. They did not get far.

Every member of the ground team unfolded weapons, ranging from shotguns to pistols and assault rifles, and aimed them at the ERCS officers. Liara and Alenko flared, a bluish corona forming around them as they readied their bodies for a fight. Similarly, Tali and Garrus flashed their omni tools, no doubt readying tech mines and hacking programs.

Behind them all, Jorge put his helmet on and grabbed his gun before beginning to push through to the front of the team.

The ERCS team was well trained, and brought their weapons to bear on the team as well. The blonde stepped back and flared- a biotic- aiming her shotgun as well, her face emotionless. Even when Jorge stepped in front of Tali, his massive form barely allowing her to peek out from behind with her shotgun, Sergeant Stirling refused to be intimidated; she eyed him with the same detached coldness that she had shown Shepard only seconds ago. The thought made Jorge uncomfortable- the woman was undisciplined and utterly without fear; a loose cannon without restraint. A fuse to a deadly situation.

Only Shepard and Captain Matsuo remained unaffected. Shepard clasped her hands behind her back and stood at ease, staring down the Captain. She remained more rigid, but drew no weapon and met Shepard's gaze head on in a battle of wills.

"Secure their weapons. Heh. Yea right," Wrex chuckled.

Jorge saw Captain Matsuo's eyes flick to him, but only for a moment, and she did not appear to back down.

"I have to insist that my crew and I keep our weapons," Shepard said in a polite yet firm manner.

Captain Matsuo's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by a voice on the comm system.

"Captain Matsuo stand down!" the voice urgently commanded.

Matsuo relaxed her shoulders and looked up the stairway towards the security checkpoint and reception area. Most of the rest of her squad did as well, though Sergeant Stirling remained tense and hostile.

"We've confirmed their identity. SPECTRE's ARE authorized to carry weapons here, Captain," the woman over the intercom continued.

Stirling stood down at that. With the opposition relaxed, the ground team did was well, dropping their weapons to safe positions, though nobody put them away just yet. Jorge let the machine gun down into a one-armed dangle.

"You may proceed, SPECTRE," Captain Matsuo told Shepard with a nod. "I hope the rest of your visit will be less confrontational. Parasini-san will meet you upstairs."

"Behave yourself," Sergeant Stirling threw in boredly.

"Thank you, Captain. Ground team, weapons away. Let's go."

Jorge idly took his helmet off as he followed behind his teammates, eying Sergeant Stirling one last time. She looked rather bored now, like the previous standoff hadn't been about to get her killed. Jorge made a mental note to avoid her in the future. Bored, possibly suicidal or extremely stupid soldiers were not good company.

A tasteful if slightly cool waiting room waited for them beyond the door. Various sentients lounged about in chairs or chatted idly by walls- Shepard and the rest barely got a cursory glance. Were armed soldiers really so common that no-one truly cared here?

Alarms blared as Shepard approached the chokepoint that served as weapon registration, drawing slightly more attention to the group. The well-dressed man behind the counter didn't even look up as a woman in an elegant smooth red dress spoke up.

"Weapons detectors, don't mind the alarms," she told them with a wave before silencing them. "I am Gianna Parasini, assistant to Administrator Anoleis. We apologize for the incident in the docking bay."

"I appreciate your help," Shepard replied diplomatically.

"You're welcome. You understand, our security chief was only doing her job. Normal visitors are not allowed into this facility with their weapons. SPECTREs have been granted special access to keep their guns... though I hope you are not expecting to use them?" she asked. Her gaze lingered on Jorge long enough that Shepard turned her head to look where she was staring.

"That depends. Have you seen anyone... unusual... come through recently?"

"Unusual?" Parasini blinked. "An asari matriarch passed through a few days ago. Lady Benezia."

"Mother," Liara whispered. She was soft enough that Jorge was sure no one else heard it. That and he was standing right next to her.

"May we speak to her?"

"Benezia left for the Peak 15 research complex days ago. To the best of my knowledge, she's still there."

"Then I need directions to Peak 15."

"You'll need to talk to Administrator Anoleis for clearance to leave this port."

"And where can I find him?"

"His office is on the main level, left at the top of the elevator."

"Thank you. May we go in now?"

"Of course. If you need any help, you can ask me at the Administrator's office."

Parasini left through a small corridor behind the counter as Shepard turned back to the team. Jorge led, down the stairs, to the elevator. As they filed in, it quickly became clear that the entire ground team was not going to fit in one go.

"Liara, can I talk to you? We'll hit the next elevator."

"Certainly, Shepard."

Jorge shot a meaningful look at Williams, who remained outside with Shepard. Liara wormed her way out from between Tali and Garrus to stand uncertainly beside Shepard as the elevator doors closed.

Williams was there, he had confidence she could handle things. As long as one of them had sight of Liara at all times, he was confident any treachery would be dealt with quickly. She was a talented biotic, but as they had proven several times now, they could still be killed. Everything died when you shot it enough times.

The elevator opened to a large open space, warm at a balmy twenty-two degrees celcius. To the left, huge glass windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling and continued for some ways. No doubt it gave a dramatic view on a clear day, but right now all it showed was the dark interior of a furious blizzard.

It reminded him of home. Reach had always been a harsh planet. Winters were cold and unforgiving, and it was more than once that Mendez had forced them into conditions much like this to teach them how to survive. How to build a snow cave to keep warm. How to stay out of the wind, when to press on and when to seek cover. Reach...

_It's different now,_ a little voice in the back of his mind nagged him. _Even if it is home, it's not the same. And it never will be again._

Jorge shook his head. Was he getting homesick? He'd been away for much longer than this before! Hell, before the last mission, he hadn't been back home in nearly a dozen years and he hadn't missed it as much as he did now.

The elevator opening behind him prevented further thought on the matter. He had a job to do, dammit. This was the op to take down Benezia, Saren's right hand. He couldn't afford to be distracted!

The area was remarkably well guarded. During the short walk the group took to the Administrator's office, Jorge noted no less than a dozen stationary guards observing the area, with another three pairs in a roving patrols at various points, all armed and vigilant. Very thorough; he had to wonder if it was a reaction to their presence, or if they were this security conscious all the time.

They approached a large reception area, no doubt for the good Administrator. Parasini sat behind the desk. Shepard motioned for the squad to hold, and after a few moments, moved around the executive desk and into the office behind.

She came out a few minutes later with an irritated expression on her face. She was stopped for a few moments by Parasini, who whispered something that even he could not hear, before turning back to them.

"Joker, how long will it take you to coordinate with the dock authorities and offload the Mako?"

*_Uhh... half an hour?_*

"Do it."

Shepard cut the connection rather violently. "Ground team, we have a problem. Benezia is a good half-hour drive from here at the Peak 15, and the good Administrator isn't going to give us access to the garage. Claims the conditions are too bad to allow access."

Jorge snorted, as did most of the rest of the team.

"Commander, taking down Benezia is more important than politics. We can get into the garage," Jorge commented. After all, he had restocked his pack after Feros. He had enough explosives with him to blow half this place to kingdom come.

"Politics are important, Jorge, this isn't Citadel space and any problems we cause will cause major problems in the future. But you are right. Benezia, and whatever she's here for, is more important than politics. That being said, I'd much prefer to solve this _without_ resorting to high explosives first."

Disappointed sighs echoed from some, mainly in the Williams and Wrex directions, but Jorge thought he heard a little something from Garrus too.

"We have half an hour before the Mako's in the garage and we blow our way in. In the meantime, I've got a lead. We're going to the bar."

-{[]}-

_Politics_.

Jorge hated politics.

He'd never had to deal with politics with the UNSC, at least, not directly. It came with being a part of ONI. The only time he had ever gotten directly involved with politics had been the execution of a planetary governor who had happened to side with rebels when he was on the same planet. Even then it had been solved with a bullet.

But now, in order to not offend the Board of Directors of Noveria, they were forced to deal with Anoleis, who happened to be crooked. One Lorik Qui'in happened to have information to allow the arrest (and a garage pass, which he'd offered as payment), but was currently forced out of his office while Anoleis's goons from ERCS tore his office up looking for it.

Jorge didn't see why the whole situation couldn't be resolved much simpler with a bullet in Anoleis's head and a garage pass lifted from his person. It would make the lives of everyone involved simpler and would be far more expedient. But sadly, he wasn't in charge, it wasn't his call to make, and Shepard had chosen to go along with it, at least until the Mako was in the garage (which would be another twenty minutes).

Which was why Jorge found himself, three elevator rides later, entering Lorik Qui'in's offices with Wrex and Shepard as the 'Brute Squad'. He didn't know where Williams had gotten that nickname, but it seemed very appropriate. Especially when the exited the elevator and found themselves looking at a woman in ERCS armor that was even shorter and slimmer built than Shepard. Between Wrex's bulk and his towering form, the security officer and her turian friend were almost dainty.

"Hanshan Security! This office is sealed! I need you to leave," the woman told Shepard, drawing her weapon. Whatever her purpose here, she was not afried to try to use her authority apparently.

Wrex let out a long, slow chuckle at that. Jorge merely stayed silent, staring at the woman from behind his visor. He knew from long experience that he didn't even need to speak to intimidate fellow humans.

Shepard let the silence drag on as she looked around nonchalantly, idly examining the paintings on the walls and other decorations.

"Lorik Qui'in let me in," she said as she continued her examination.

"Qui'in? Are you working for him? Qui'in is under investigation!" the security officer told them.

Shepard finally brought her attention to bear on the woman. She fidgeted slightly under the scrutiny.

"If this is an official investigation, then you wouldn't mind if I called Captain Matsuo, would you?" Shepard asked innocently. The woman gulped.

"Ah, but you would. Because this isn't an investigation, this is a shakedown, paid for by Anoleis. Which means that you currently have no authority. It also means that you have no backup to call upon– wouldn't like Captain Matsuo to get wise, would we now? Which means that you and your buddies here, have no authority beyond that of the guns they hold."

Shepard gestured first to Wrex.

"This is Wrex, a good friend of mine. He's been looking forward to fighting an asari matriarch, and you happen to be standing in his way. And… well, I hope I don't have to explain that to you."

Wrex grinned. Shepard gestured to him.

"This is my good friend Kadar. He is perhaps the best special forces agent the Alliance has ever produced. He too has been preparing himself to fight an asari matriarch, and is perfectly willing to do whatever it takes to bring her down, even if that means a few trivial things like doors have to be blown up or people have to be shot. Security personnel, asari Commandos- he doesn't really care."

The woman gulped visibly.

"But, you seem like you need a hint. So I will say it once: leave these offices, now."

It didn't take long for her to decide. "We didn't see you here, and you didn't see us," she told them as they walked out. The turian with her followed quickly behind.

Jorge shook his head. Well, at least they had chosen to take the easy way out…

"Now I'm kinda disappointed, Shepard. That whole speech made me want to fight," Wrex commented.

At that moment, an ERCS guard came around the corner of a large central wall in the room. He gawped for a second at the heavily armored figures before them, then raised a hand and pointed.

"INTRUDERS! SHOOT THEM!"

Shepard had her pistol out and shooting almost as quick as Jorge sent a stream of bullets at the man, forcing him behind the solid concrete wall.

"Well Wrex, looks like you might get your wish after all," Shepard commented as she slid into cover, holstering her pistol and pulling out her assault rifle.

Wrex chuckled in response and swept his arm sideways, his form glowing blue as a biotic barrier formed around him.

"Jorge, get to the other end of this wall and cover those stairs and whatever else you can see. Wrex, you and I are going to flush them out of cover into his firing lanes."

"Yes ma'am!"

There were several red dots on his motion tracker, including one in the direction he was headed, but there was nothing coming down the stairs, not yet. At the other end of the wall, Jorge stepped out, swinging around to line up a shot on one of the red dots, but found nothing. At least, not until his shields flickered as a turian lined him up from an overhead walkway. Heavy machine gun fire suppressed him handily enough.

A single figure in ERCS armor stepped out of a door at the end of the hallway, facing the direction where Shepard and Wrex's IFFs were. Jorge immediately shifted fire. The man, already facing and taking fire, panicked at the crossfire, and looked around trying to find some cover. There was none- he had foolishly run out in the open. His riddled body slumped to the ground. A scream came from the same direction. Jorge watched as another ERCS guard, wreathed in a blue corona of biotics, slammed into the wall at an odd angle. There was a wet crack as his neck broke, and he fell to the floor, unmoving.

Motion directed his attention to the stairs, where a human had stepped around the corner and opened fire. A hail of bullets from Jorge's machine gun sent him scrambling back into cover, barely in time before his shields broke. Pivoting, Jorge sent suppressive fire at the walkway above him to keep the turian pinned before stepping back into cover to let his gun cool a bit.

*_Clear. Coming to you._* Shepard reported over the radio.

Jorge stepped back out and unleashed a hail of suppressive fire, first at the stairwell then at the part of the walkway where the other guard hid as Wrex and Shepard trotted into view.

"Two hostiles, ma'am," he reported. She nodded.

"Wrex, you have point, let's go up the stairs. Jorge, keep the one on the walkway suppressed until we've handled them."

Jorge swung out and let loose on the concrete walkway above, forcing the turian down again. He kept the fire up even as he saw Shepard's shields drain slightly, followed by a scream as someone went sailing through the air. A few seconds later, the turian stood, turning to fire on Shepard. Caught in Jorge's heavy fire, beset by an N7 Commando and a krogan battlemaster, the turian was quick to fall.

*_On us, Jorge. The office is up here,_* Shepard called over the comm.

"Yes, ma'am."

Up a long flight of stairs, past a few small offices and a small waiting area, across the walkway and into a rather bare room, Wrex waited while Shepard slipped the small OSD into the lone computer. It took a few seconds, but Shepard smiled, then deactivated the haptic screen and pulled the OSD out.

"One piece of evidence. Now, to get that garage pass," Shepard said aloud, putting the OSD in a belt compartment.

"Commander, this would have been much easier if we just took Anoleis out," Jorge told her.

Shepard nodded. "Yea, probably would have… still, we can't take the easy solution all the time, Jorge. I mean, we still have fifteen more minutes before the Mako is ready in– aw hell."

It wasn't hard to see what she was cursing about. Five ERCS guards awaited them at the top of the stairs. He recognized an addition one from her unhelmeted, blonde hair. Sergeant Stirling.

"I don't think you're supposed to be in here, Shepard," the Sergeant said as they drew up. Her face was relatively impassive, but Jorge did not miss the look of fire in her eyes. She was angry.

"Nope. But then again, I'm guessing you aren't supposed to be here either," Shepard replied.

"I am the law around here. I can go anywhere," Stirling dismissed. Her face focused into a slight frown of disapproval. "You killed a lot of cops here today."

"I killed a lot of _mercenaries breaking the law _who got in my way today," Shepard corrected politely.

Stirling snorted. "Anoleis would throw you off world if he heard what happened here. I won't. You know what we did to cop killers on my world?"

Now it was Jorge's turn to snort. "You aren't cops. You're barely even a mercenary company. Noveria should look into hiring some real people who can handle a gun."

Stirling flared and shot a biotic attack at him. "I don't need a gun to turn you into a pulpy mess!"

Jorge took a step forward, presented his up-armored side to the enemy, braced himself, and opened up. Three shots came out of his gun barrel before the pulse of blue light hit him in the shoulder.

Jorge was rather happy that it was not a warp, but a biotic throw. Having properly braced himself, he found that the throw was less powerful than the asari slaver's throw. His aim wasn't even thrown off. It was like getting a punch in the shoulder, nothing more.

There were five officers with Stirling. With a biotic barrier up, Stirling was durable, and was moving sideways quickly. Unfortunately for her, and for the rest of the officers, a waiting area doesn't usually provide much cover. And what cover it does provide is usually not bulletproof, as one officer who took cover behind a flipped table found out.

In close quarters, with no cover, Shepard and her team had the advantage. Not from numbers, but from sheer durability. Wrex stepped forward, throwing biotic attacks and shotgunning mercenaries left and right with impunity, his biotic barrier protecting him from the frenzied attacks. Jorge fared just as well, his shields more durable than the officers and his armor far thicker. The Legacy showed the sheer firepower that came with normally being a squad light anti-vehicle weapon, shattering shields and destroying the armor of his targets faster than they could get out of the way. Shepard was no slouch either, her shotgun deadly in the close quarters of the combat.

Twenty seconds later, Jorge's shields recharged with a beep as Wrex finished off the last ERCS mercenary by lifting him into the air and using him as an impromptu clay pigeon. Shepard stood over the still body of Sergeant Stirling, her chestpiece cracked and streaming blood from three of his bullets and one larger shotgun hole.

Jorge frowned at the sight. The woman had had an unhealthy attitude towards danger, and it had finally gotten her killed.

"Right. We need to get this to Lorik to get his garage pass before the Mako gets to the garage," Shepard stated, stowing her weapons.

"What about Captain Matsuo?" Jorge asked as they headed for the elevator. "I doubt she'll take what we did here lightly."

Wrex snorted at that. "If she didn't expect something like this I'm a pyjacks uncle. ERCS is a mercenary company. Their loyalty is to the highest bidder, not Noveria or the Captain, and she wouldn't have risen so far if she didn't know that."

"Had experience with this before?" Shepard asked idly over the elevator music.

"Mercenary, Shepard. I worked for ERCS for a little while, few hundred years back. They're just like any other mercenary, the only difference is you have a group rate instead of a lump sum."

"If they hire krogan, why aren't there any here?" Jorge wondered aloud. Wrex chuckled.

"Any krogan with enough self control to baby-sit a bunch of civilians day in and day out is more valuable somewhere else," he replied.

The lift doors opened and the group exited the elevator, only to stop short when they came face to face with Gianni Parasini.

"Commander, there have been reports of noise coming from the Synthetic Insights office. Would you know anything about that?" she asked. There was something in her tone that indicated she already knew the answer.

"What do you want?" Shepard asked bluntly. Apparently she had picked up on it too.

Parasini gave a small chuckle. "Direct. Good. I like that. But I can't talk about it here. Come on, let me get you a drink."

Shepard nodded. "Alright, let's go to the bar."

-{[]}-

While Shepard headed off to a table with Parasini, Wrex and Jorge made their way over to the table where the rest of the ground team was sitting.

"So, how'd it go?" Williams asked by way of greeting.

Jorge shrugged. "We had to fight our way through."

"Authorities aren't going to like that," Garrus commented through a mouthful of food. He was taking the opportunity to get some food that 'didn't taste like cardboard'.

"They attacked a SPECTRE," Jorge pointed out.

"Those mercs were idiots," Wrex said as he sat his bulk down.

"So, what's with the secretary?" Williams asked, nodding towards where Parasini and Shepard were in conversation.

"Dunno. Wanted to talk to Shepard about something," Jorge shrugged.

Jorge checked his omni tool. They had three minutes before the Mako was delivered to the hanger. Three minutes to get a garage pass. Why wasn't Shepard just giving the evidence to Qui'in?

He watched as Shepard put a hand to her forehead. Then she nodded, and said a few words to Parasini. He couldn't make out what they were over the distance, but Parasini seemed pleased as Shepard headed over to Qui'in.

Jorge shook his head. When had something so simple as 'walking across port and leaving' become so complicated? The only good news was that these distractions weren't truly a setback yet because the Mako still wouldn't be ready for another two minutes.

"Hey Shepard. What's goin' on?" Williams called out.

"Well, I think I managed to secure us a garage pass," she replied.

"Commander, what did Parasini want?" Jorge asked.

"She works for Noveria Internal Affairs. She's been trying to get evidence to nail Anoleis on corruption charges for six months now, and Lorik was her chance. She wanted me to convince Lorik to give her the evidence and testify so she could arrest Anoleis. And I did. So now I need to go talk to Parasini and give her this–" she flashed the OSD– "so we can get that garage pass and get back to finding Benezia."

"Glad to see Anoleis get taken down," Garrus said as he finished his meal.

Jorge nodded in agreement. Maybe there was some justice in the world. A bit more delayed than UNSC justice, probably not so permanent, but at the end of the day, Anoleis was no longer a concern.

"Pack it up and meet me at the garage in five minutes. I have to give Parasini the good news and get that garage pass."

-{[]}-

The garage was guarded by a single ERCS woman, someone who looked rather new and was understandably jumpy with having multiple heavily-armed individuals loitering in her guard post. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long.

"Commander," Jorge greeted.

Shepard acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. "That's all sorted out, let's get moving."

"Uhm, access to the garage is restricted," the guard said nervously.

"I have a pass right here," Shepard replied, holding out a small card. The guard scanned it, producing a small beep.

"Yes, that's genuine. Drive safely, the weather is supposed to be pretty bad out there right now."

"Thank you."

Everything was starting to go smoothly. It was therefore no surprise to Jorge that it all went straight to hell. They hadn't taken more than ten steps into the garage when everyone's trackers began beeping.

"Commander! Tracker's jammed!" Alenko called out. Others echoed his call.

Cursing in Hungarian, Jorge slammed his helmet back on just in time for two Geth destroyers to round the corner of the garage exit.

The team scattered for cover, engaging the various platforms that had ambushed them. This left Jorge with a clear shot on the two closing destroyers, and he immediately opened fire. They charged in, fast and hard, ignoring the damage they took, both heading straight for the one target that was out in the open- Jorge.

The first took two overloads and a hail of bullets from both Jorge and others before it went down with a crash. The other kept coming hard and fast, and had nearly reached Jorge when a blue field caused it to go flying upwards. Jorge had to duck as the now-helpless destroyer-sized hunk of metal came flying at him, before machine-gunning the helpless geth.

He turned just as Wrex biotically threw a hopper into a wall, disabling the machine with the crunching of metal. Everyone's trackers cleared up with that, revealing no further targets in the area.

"Wha- Secure the area! What the hell were those things?!"

Jorge turned to the voice to find Captain Matsuo striding in, a few ERCS officers behind her. They had their weapons out and were looking around uncertainly.

"What did you do here, Commander?" she asked Shepard.

"A Geth ambush. We defeated it," Shepard replied nonchalantly. Captain Matsuo's eyes widened.

"Geth?" she asked incredulously. "You expect me to believe– where did they come from?"

"The Matriarch arrived with a bunch of shipping containers, right?" Shepard said. "Well, I guess we know what was in them now."

Jorge swore under his breath. Now they weren't just dealing with asari commandos, they were dealing with Geth too.

"I... That's not possible. We did thorough scans of those. There were no power sources, no element zero masses..." Captain Matsuo bowed her head. "If Benezia-sama's containers were packed with these things there are many more out there."

"How many, Captain?"

"Dozens, at least. They're machines. You could pack them tightly." She sighed. "I must report to the Executive Board. If word gets out about loose Geth, there may be an investor panic."

"Don't worry about them too much, Captain. I'm here to take them out."

"I appreciate your help, Commander. Excuse me. I have to see patrols are doubled and the Board is informed. Good luck on your mission, Commander."

Shepard watched Matsuo leave, before turning to the ground team.

"Alright, we know the Geth are here, and we know they won't just ambush us once. Everyone needs to be prepared for anything. Assume the Geth will be our main resistance through Peak 15 until we manage to encounter the asari commandos... And Lady Benezia. Everyone load up, we need to get moving!"

-{[]}-

Well, sorry for the delay guys. You can blame my other story, Starcraft 2, and work. But mostly my other story and starcraft. However, the story continues, and will continue, as I have said before several times now.

So here it is, part 1 of Noveria. Chose to stop here, it made a logical break in the story flow. For those who played the game, you know what's next. For those who haven't, well, you'll see.


	27. Chapter 25- Peak 15, Noveria

The drive from Port Hanshan to Peak 15 was a mess.

The Mako may have been an infantry carrier, but it had not been built with a Krogan and a man of Jorge's size in mind in addition to the others. Jorge made do, but Wrex was not very happy being stuffed into the cargo area next to him, nor was Williams who had nowhere else to sit. It did not help that, because this was the cargo area and thus not meant for general occupation, there were no restraints meant for humans, which meant that every time Shepard engaged the jump jets to dodge a missile, or threw a hard turn to splatter a Geth trooper, the three of them rolled around like pinballs. The result was, at the end of a rocket packed drive, Jorge was seriously considering walking the rest of the way and it looked like Wrex was close to murdering the first person who so much as looked at him funny. If they had to come back like that, someone was going to die.

Still, it did prove they could fit the entire squad into the Mako, something of which most (including him) had been doubtful. It also meant that the entire squad was ready to take down Benezia.

They deployed outside the facility. A burning Grizzly blocked the main entrance to the garage, forcing the squad to disembark and use a personnel entrance next to it. Scans from the Mako indicated enemies, even though they were not yet on the personal scanners and motion detectors.

Jorge was the first through.

The small side room the first door led to was empty, allowing the team to unseal their suits. The next was empty too, a buffer room between the outside elements and the comfortably warm interior of the garage. One side was blocked by a burning Grizzly; the other, by a large stone garage door.

"Jorge, Wrex, front and center," Shepard whispered. "Everyone else, spread out along the walls. Rush the room and find cover once you're inside."

With Wrex beside him, Jorge readied himself to once again place himself in the line of fire.

The door opened and the team rushed into the room, Jorge and Wrex fully in view as the rest scurried into cover, mostly crates, near where they were. At the back of the long garage was a Geth Juggernaut flanked by two krogan, waiting for them behind cover. On their flank, on a raised walkway overlooking the entrance, a single lone Krogan began taking potshots at Jorge.

Jorge didn't even call it a fight. It was eight on four. The fire from the soldiers, Jorge included, was so great that the Juggernaut and Krogan, even with their heavy armor, were quickly cut down, their weapons overheated from tech attacks before being riddled with holes. A series of biotics floated the lone flanking Krogan over the team's heads, where the team promptly sealed his fate as well.

The team barely broke their stride.

*_User alert: All Peak 15 facilities have suffered a great deal of damage. Biohazard materials present throughout facility. Virtual intelligence user interface offline,_* came a computerized voice over the loudspeakers.

"That doesn't sound good," Garrus commented as they climbed the stairs to the walkway.

"We'll need to get the reactors back online," Tali said, poking at her omni interface.

"And the VI. Once we have the computers back up and running we can find out what's going on around here," Alenko mused.

"Why are the turrets facing the wrong way?" Tali asked as they walked through the next hallway.

It was standard colonial setup and materials, but effort had been expended to make it into a checkpoint of sorts. A glass window viewing area for checking out potential visitors, and turrets. Turrets that faced towards the facility, rather than the door leading to it. Jorge chuckled.

"To keep people in. Not out," Jorge voice simply.

To be honest, it reminded Jorge of home. This was the kind of thing that ONI would do on top-secret projects. The point of the turrets wasn't to keep unwanted personnel out— you would only be there in the first place if you were unlucky enough to be working there or lucky enough to be on the need-to-know list. The point of the turrets was to keep the workers in. Then, the secrets they were working on stayed secret, by force if necessary.

The security checkpoint was shut down, the power dead and the terminal useless, so the team headed straight for the elevator, deeper into the facility.

Their motion trackers lit up as they went up the shaft. With Jorge in front, the team burst out of the elevator, went through a short hallway, and emerged into a large, debris-and-and-snow laden room. The windows had been blown out, letting the freezing temperatures and lots of frozen water into the large room. But more importantly, there were more Geth, to no-one's surprise. But nothing big. The lone assault trooper and corresponding Geth troopers went down without any trouble at all. Jorge's shield's weren't even significantly drained.

Jorge was very pleased. They had never truly all worked together before, and precious few in his home universe would call them a fighting force. An ex-cop, an engineer pilgrim, a mercenary, and a scientist supported by one ordinary soldier, an officer, a special forces commander, and a single Spartan, yet they were blowing through the opposition with clean, crisp efficiency and no problems. A well oiled machine; a strange machine to be sure, but it worked nonetheless.

They headed for the stairs that would lead them to the next level when the distinctive sound of something hitting metal was heard. Everyone froze as clanking was heard throughout the room; to Jorge's ears, it sounded as though something was travelling through the heating and cooling ducts, but he could not pinpoint the source. From the way the team clustered into a circle, backs to each other and guns at the ready, they could not hear where it was coming from either.

"I don't like the sound of that," Garrus commented uncertainly.

"Animals? Wind? This place is in bad shape," Tali threw in.

"Keep your eyes open, people," Shepard whispered, assault rifle at the ready. She advanced towards the stairs.

She hadn't gone more than two steps when their motion trackers lit up with unknown signatures. All around them. Jorge whipped his machine gun around towards where they had come from, his tracker indicating something approaching fast.

It was small, glowed a radioactive green color, and scuttled on six spindly legs very quickly at the cluster of the team. It did not seem very friendly. Jorge, not hearing a specific command to hold fire, decided that it was best to put the thing down and squeezed the trigger. Unfortunately, the bug was simply too fast, his aim just a bit too inaccurate to compensate— he was, after all, literally firing from the hip here. Other guns opened fire around him as the little thing scuttled closer and closer, bullets making little puff of snow rise into the air as it impacted the snow-laden ground around it—

Jorge had just raised his foot to stamp firmly on the bug when it promptly exploded into a bright green mess. His shields flared as the green ichor slid off his shields before splattering to the ground, where it began to smoke and burn a hole in the floor.

"Acid!" he called out over the din. "Don't let the bugs get close!"

He heard two more wet *_splats_*, one from near the team, the other further out. Startled screams and a deep grunt came from behind him as he checked his arc. There were no further bugs, but motion trackers were still picking up things moving towards him from his side. He turned to look.

The corridor the next creatures were in was enclosed, which allowed the team some time to examine their next potential opponents. They were, to his eyes, insect-like, with multiple spindly limbs and a chitinous exterior. They were also large— Jorge guess that they would weigh nearly 200 kilograms and that, if they stood on their hind legs, they would be nearly as tall as he was. As it was, they crawled low to the ground and had two tentacle-like forward appendages with some sort of claw at the end, which it snapped at them in a threatening manner.

Obviously not friendly.

Then it reached the end of the glass corridor it was in and promptly removed all doubt by spitting some sort of acid at the team.

"Take them down!" Shepard roared. Not that she needed to. Those in the path managed to successfully dodge out of the way while the rest of the team, Jorge included, turned their considerable talents to making sure that whatever the creature was, it would not live to threaten them again.

Liara threw a singularity at the opening just as a second rounded the corner, suspending both creatures in the air. The creatures made their displeasure known with high-pitched hisses and snapped their tentacle-things at the team even as bullets continued to pour into their armored forms. By the time the singularity dissipated and dropped them to the floor, they had stopped moving, their bodies riddled with holes and burns.

Shepard approached slowly, weapon at the ready, and kicked a limp tentacle as the team covered her. Nothing happened.

"What were those things?" Tali asked quietly. Her head was turned to Liara.

"Xeno-biology is not my specialty," Liara replied, her eyes wide. "Perhaps—"

"Rachni."

"What?" Garrus asked. Everyone turned to Wrex.

Wrex purposely strode forward, kneeling down to get a good look at the prone creature. He sniffed once, twice, then grunted and spat on the creature. "This is a Rachni."

"That's impossible. The Council wiped them out in the Rachni Wars!" Alenko protested in disbelief. Wrex turned to him with fire in his eyes.

"The Krogan wiped out the Rachni in the Rachni Wars, not the Council!" he growled out.

"Be realistic, Wrex, this can't be a Rachni," Garrus said placatingly. "I mean, they've been dead longer than even you've been alive. It's probably just some… Binary Helix experiment on insects?"

Wrex growled. "No-one has seen rachni since they were wiped out, but every Krogan knows them. After all, the Council had to get us to do the dirty work and exterminate them!" He kicked the creature. "This is a Rachni soldier. The little ones back there were workers. These are Rachni."

"Whatever they are," Shepard cut off, "they've obviously escaped containment. I don't care if they are Rachni or super-cockroaches, they're hostile. You see them, you shoot them, but this doesn't change the mission. We are here for Benezia. Keep your eyes open."

With that, Shepard strode purposefully around the corpses and towards the objective marker, assault rifle cradled loosely in her arms at the ready position. The rest of them followed.

"My second set of armor," he heard Williams groan. Turning to look at the marine, Jorge just had to chuckle. It appeared that she had borne the brunt of the exploding acid attack he had heard near the team. Parts of her armor paint were boiled away, exposing pitted bare ceramic beneath it. Not compromised yet, but the integrity was now certainly less than before in places.

"Shut up Mr. Invincible," she grumbled under her breath. Jorge just smiled behind his helmet as they got into yet another elevator.

They cautiously made their way down the next corridors to find themselves in the central computing cluster. Shepard and the leading elements gunned down a number of the small green bugs before Jorge could get a clear shot— the corridors were so narrow that Jorge was unable to get into the action before the insects were exploded.

*Critical startup error. Virtual Intelligence user interface offline,* came a synthetic voice over the speakers.

"Garrus, Alenko, Tali, what do we need to do to get that VI up and running again?" Shepard asked as the rest of the team filed in.

"I am not certain," Tali said with uncertain looks at the other two. "It would be best if we could request a diagnostic ourselves. We may be able to re-route the computer, or at least access basic system functions, from the computing core."

"According to the map, the main core is right over there," Alenko supplied, gesturing to the circular section in front of them.

"Scans indicate that the main power is offline. We'll need to at least get that online if we're going to take the tram to the next station," Garrus supplied as he examined his omni.

Shepard deliberated for a moment, before making a decision. "Vakarian, Alenko, you think you can get the VI running again?"

Both replied in the affirmative.

"Good. Tali, Jorge, Williams, you three go get that reactor working again," Shepard ordered.

"Ma'am, I can handle anything thrown at us. Keep Williams here, you might need her if those bugs attack again," Jorge suggested. It was, to him, vitally important to not leave Shepard alone at any point with Liara. He needed someone he could trust close to Liara at all times, and Williams was the only one he could rely on right now to get the job done. The rest seemed to believe that Liara was on their side... no matter the situation.

Shepard studied him for a moment. Behind his mask, Jorge held his face impassive, as if that would help his case even though she couldn't see it. Then, she nodded.

"Alright then. Jorge, Tali, get that reactor working. Williams, Wrex, Liara, post up and keep a lookout. Alenko, Vakarian, you are with me in the core."

Jorge sighed internally as he hefted his gun towards the door leading to the reactor. He had no doubt that Shepard knew what he really wanted, but it appeared she was willing to let him have his way, and not blatantly let the others know about his suspicions, for which he was thankful.

"Think it will be hard to get the reactor working again?" he asked his companion as the elevator to the reactor began to descend.

"It depends on what is wrong," she replied with an undertone of nervousness. "It could be that the reactor shut down automatically, then all we would need to do is restart. Or it could be that those Rachni.. bug... things did some physical damage to the reactor and it scrammed to prevent a containment breach from becoming catastrophic. I won't know until I take a look at it."

*_User alert: main reactor shutdown in accordance with emergency containment procedures. Manual restart required._*

"Oh. Well, that should make things easier," Tali said in an optimistic tone.

Then their motion trackers went white with noise.

"Or... Not..." she said in a small voice. "Maybe we should go back and get Ashley?"

Jorge shook his head. "We can do this."

They burst into the first room to find it empty, their motion trackers still jammed. Two doors led towards the reactor, one to the left, one to the right. A VI terminal stood inactivate, and as Jorge continued to look for threats and decide what to do next, Tali tried to activate it. No response.

"I will need to examine the reactor to make certain the Geth haven't tampered with it before restarting," Tali told him. "Then we will need to get to the control room to begin the restart sequence."

Jorge nodded his agreement. "Stay behind me, and watch the other door. No telling what will happen when we open this door."

Tali gave him a firm nod and clutched her shotgun closer as she moved to the other door. Jorge held up a hand, fingers out. 5. 4. 3. 2...

Jorge triggered the door just as the count hit zero, stepping through the threshold almost as soon as it opened. In the half second before he began firing, he took the time to evaluate what he was up against.

Two Destroyers, their hulking red forms already turning to face him. One was off to the left and up a metal ramp access, the other directly in front of him near a fusion containment canister. A Geth Stalker clung to the ceiling, its single red eye turning to face him. An instant later, Jorge had his strategy.

The machine gun roared to life, sending pellets of metal down range at significant fractions of the speed of light. But their target was not the Geth, not yet. Instead, the rounds hit the fusion containment cell just as the Destroyer it was next to finished turning. Containment cells of this type are meant to contains hazardous materials safely, not stand up to gunfire. One round hit the canister, punching a hole straight through just as the next hit, sending force throughout the material under containment. The result was an impressive explosion, right next to the Destroyer. The Geth Destroyer rocked back from the force before being covered in green slag that began to eat through the metal/ceramic armor that it boasted.

It did not stop there. Jorge continued his arc and began firing on the weakened Geth, beginning the full power of the machine gun he wielded to bear on the platform. Shields flickered to life, then failed a second later. Rounds began hitting armor. Weakened as it was from the acidic attack, the armor of the destroyer was no match for the stress of such heavy caliber rounds impacting it. The destroyer slumped, sparking, to the ground.

Jorge was taking fire by that point. He ignored that blasted Stalker as it hit him with a powerful sniper round, dropping his shields down to maybe ten percent. He would deal with that slippery bastard soon enough. No, he needed to take out that second destroyer first.

His shields failed altogether as the destroyer opened fire on him as it advanced down the catwalk ramp. He responded in kind, dropping its shields as it advanced upon him. Calling the fight even, however, would be a gross understatement. Jorge had been specifically armed and armored to outlast any single opponent short of anti-vehicle infantry or a vehicle; the result was a shredded Geth destroyer at the bottom of the catwalk ramp a few seconds later and only a few new scratches on the paint of his Mjolnir armor.

He turned his attention to the catwalk just in time to see a second Stalker lining up a shot on his unprotected, relatively unarmored, head. Only his Spartan reflexes allowed him to jerk his head out of the way, and the round impacted harmlessly on the armored metal backpack he carried. He responded with a flurry of fire at the first Stalker, which was lining up another shot, forcing it to abandon its shot and jump to the ceiling.

Jorge followed the move with superhuman speed, and managed to shred it before it jumped again– they were amazingly mobile, but did not pack nearly enough armor to stand up to heavy machine gun fire for any length of time. He repeated the act with the second Stalker, watching it drop boneless lay to the floor.

Total time elapsed: fourteen seconds. His Legacy was beginning to get hot.

The sound of a shotgun brought his attention around to his charge. He pivoted and opened fire without a moments hesitation, trusting Tali was smart enough not to have taken position between him and the opposite door. He was right, and a Geth Destroyer, its rifle disabled by Tali's hacking program, received a face full of lead as it attempted to navigate the stairs towards the Quarian that was defiantly shotgunning it. Caught in a crossfire, the chest armor was riddled with holes while very large holes opened up in the flashlight head. It collapsed in a heap.

Jorge watched as the Quarian pulled out her pistol and lit her omni tool at something he could not see. He rushed over, heavy steps making the floor shake slightly, but she had the situation under control. Jorge watched as Tali finished off a third Geth Stalker with her pistol.

"Negative contacts on my side," he reported.

"Negative contacts over here," she reported back.

Jorge frowned. Their trackers were still jammed; there still had to be some Geth around, somewhere. But a quick check of his door again revealed nothing new.

"What now?" he asked her quietly.

"I need to check the reactor. It's down these catwalks," she whispered back. "But I can't do it with Geth shooting at me, we need to get rid of them all first!"

Jorge thought for a moment, weighing options and risks. In the end, he decided to take it one slow, careful step at a time.

"Stay behind me. Keep a watch out, try to remain out of sight. We'll sweep the area, first this floor, the the next level up."

Tali nodded.

Jorge stepped out and began cautiously sweeping the area, walking slowly down the catwalk. Every shadow was examined, every movement scrutinized as a possible threat. But by the time he had completed a circuit, coming up on the door Tali had been defending, there was nothing. Grimly, the two began to work their way carefully up the catwalk ramp, wary for any ambush.

The upper catwalk led to the control room, an empty control room as it turned out. The lure of finding out the status of the reactor tore Tali away, her shotgun held limply as she pecked at the control panel. Jorge continued to scout the room, making his way over to the far door.

"Good news!" Tali told him. "There's been no damage to the reactor, all we need to do is restart–"

The door to the room beyond, a storage room of some sort, opened as Jorge got close enough to set off the door. Behind it was a Geth Juggernaut.

_Kurva eletbe!_

The world slowed around Jorge as he focused on the situation. The Juggernaut appeared to have either not detected him or was ignoring him in favor of taking out Tali, as despite his proximity it was clearly raising its weapon at her. Tali was flatfooted, just turning to stare up at the Juggernaut. Her weapon was slack. He practically feel those glowing eyes going wide at the sight of the mechanical automatons that had forced her people off their homeworld.

And if he didn't do something about it, there was going to be one less Quarian in the galaxy in a few seconds.

There was once a time when Jorge would not have lifted a finger to save an alien. He was no longer that soldier. Tali was his teammate, and he would die to protect her just as he would any member of the UNSC. Jorge acted.

He first dropped his gun. The encounter with the half-dead Juggernaut on Feros had convinced him that, even at point blank range, his gun simply didn't have the power to stop this thing in the time that he had. His fists, augmented by his armor, should be able to though. Or at least, it would be enough to save Tali.

His hands free, he put them to use, snapping his arm up to grab the business end of the rifle, directing it off course. Before the machine could react, he smashed his closed fist into the middle of the rifle it was holding. Plastic and ceramics shattered under the force of his blow- the weapon was useless. Twisting around, Jorge kicked at knee joint level. He reasoned that, just like with the destroyer, the joint would be weaker, and he was right. The Mjolnir-powered kick had enough force in it to bend the knee sideways, but not quite enough to break it. Juggernauts were much more heavily armored than Destroyers.

Jorge ducked as the Juggernaut threw a fist towards his head. He was fast, but the machine was not much slower and the full force of the blow caught his armored pack. It was enough to send him staggering back as he regained his footing.

It also forced the machine back as well– for every action, there was, after all, an equal and opposite reaction. Unfortunately for the Juggernaut, when it placed weight upon the bent metal leg in an attempt to regain its balance, it found nothing but air– the Juggernaut was standing atop a set of small stairs. Off balance, the Juggernaut was unable to compensate when the damaged leg finally contacted stair and gave out from the strain of having the whole weight of the machine on it. There was a huge crash as the Juggernaut fell out of the doorway and down the stairs.

The absurdity of it almost made Jorge laugh. Instead, he rushed over to his gun, grabbed it, stuck it through the doorway, and opened fire on the weaponless, recovering Juggernaut. _One... two... three... four..._

It took nine seconds before the Juggernaut stopped moving, but Jorge continued to machine gun the metal corpse until his gun overheated, another eleven seconds and 1100 rounds later. When he was all done, the Juggernaut looked like Swiss cheese with all the holes punched through its armor.

"Thank you, Jorge," came Tali's whisper. He turned to find her at the terminal, pecking away at a holographic representation of the reactor.

Jorge eyed the Juggernaut one more time for movement, then turned to his Quarian friend. "No problem. How's the reactor?"

"Rerouting to secondary fuel lines... and... done!" She tapped a green button on the haptic, and the sound of pumps spinning up greeted their ears. The lights flickered for a moment, then brightened.

"Reactor operating at 95%. More than enough for our needs," she informed him with a satisfied hand clap.

"Right then. Let's get back to the others and tell them the good news."

The sight that greeted them when they stepped through the door back to the main computing core was that of a bug husk. The Rachni soldier, overgrown cockroach, whatever it was, lay in the center of the room, spread eagle and quite thankfully dead. The grating for the floor heating vent had been thrown aside; they were using the vents to travel around the facility.

"Commander?" he called out tentatively. Motion from a tracker identified as 'friendly' moved around the computing core, and resolved itself to be Williams.

"Good job with the reactor," she said, weapon held across her chest. "Tali, Alenko might be able to use your help with the computer."

"Alright," she agreed, heading towards the central core.

"Where's the Commander?" Jorge asked.

"She took Garrus and Wrex to go see if they could get some cut hard lines fixed, up on the roof."

Jorge weighed taking his helmet off and getting a little fresh air, but decided against it. If those things were in the ventilation shafts, they could be attacked at any time. That, and it wasn't exactly fresh air anymore with the dead bodies on the floor. He was about to set his gun down and rest his arm when the sound of a door opening caught his ear, behind the core.

Jorge took up a post as a cry of triumph rang through the core; the VI was functional again, and with the reactor and hard lines repaired, they might finally find out what was going on around here.

-[{}]-

Special thanks to user NickKap, who gave this a lookover, and to user project 5O1D13R, who continues to remind me to get off my lazy butt and keep writing. I haven't been reading through reviews recently, but I intend to do that now, and I will respond with an update to the questionaire chapter or at the end of the next chapter, which is already completed (NickKap advised me to split it into two pieces), and will be posted within the next few days.

As always, thank you for reading my story, and for those of you taking the time to review, I really do appreciate your sentiments and words. I hope you continue to enjoy my little story.


	28. Chapter 26: Peak 15, Rift Station

The tram pulled into the station with a hiss and a rumble. Rift station, a subsidiary station to the main Peak 15 facility. Benezia's destination, according to the station VI. The VI had also provided some other interesting tidbits, though it was unable to tell them exactly what was going on; for example, the bugs they were encountering were referred to as 'escaped contaminants', which everyone agreed meant that Binary Helix was experimenting upon them at the very least. Worst case, they were Rachni, as Wrex kept insisting.

There were also survivors. Rift Station was apparently in their control, with none of the creatures alive there. Somewhere in this station, the remnants of the science and security teams were still alive.

Maybe they could tell them just what the hell was going on around here.

The station itself was empty, of both enemies and friendlies. The elevator to the Hot Labs was also locked down; the only way forward was up a level, towards the area marked as scientist quarters, main security, medical facility, etc. The main living quarters. Likely the survivors were there. With no other way to go, the team piled into the elevator, though like with everything else, it couldn't fit all of them at once. Jorge, Garrus and Alenko waited for the second trip.

The doors opened to bullets. Lots and lots of bullets. None of them explicitly aimed at them, true, but they were definitely downrage from the guns. Alenko and Garrus both threw themselves out of the line of fire, up against the walls of the elevator. Jorge cursed in Hungarian and did the same as stray bullets pinged off his shields.

Fortunately, the torrent of fire quickly cut off, letting the team in the elevator come out. What they found was the rest of the team, a number of nervous and tired-looking security guards behind a makeshift barricade, and the corpses of two freshly killed bugs (or as the VI would call them, contaminants). It was clear that the outpost had been attacked before as well; the burnt corpses of older bugs indicated that this was by no means the first, and that steps had been taken to keep the fire lines clear.

Shepard was in deep conversation with the Captain of the security forces as the team left the makeshift barricade and headed deeper into the facility. By the time they reached his office, Jorge had overheard everything he needed to know.

These bugs, these aliens as the security chief called them, were indeed made by the facility. They had broken out of the Hot Labs just over a week ago now, killing and murdering everything in their path. There was just one person who could tell them what was going on, a Volus by the name of Han Olar, the only survivor who had made it out of the Hot Labs.

And then, of course, there was the matter of Benezia, who had arrived a few days ago, had gone into the main Quarantine Lab, and had not been heard from or seen since.

"We need to see Benezia," Shepard insisted to the security chief. The bald man held up a placating hand.

"We haven't cleared those passages, Commander. No telling what we might find on the way to the labs. The only safe place around here is the dormitories here," he replied.

"Captain, the only way we are getting out of this place is if I talk to Benezia, whether I have to fight my way to her or not."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I won't be able to send any personnel with you though. You'll be on your own. And I'd recommend talking to Han first, before seeing Benezia; anything you can do about those aliens coming from the Hot Labs would be a real load off my shoulders. Might even let me get these people to safety."

"I'll see what I can do," Shepard promised.

The main dormitories were full of shellshocked civilians. Humans, salarians, turians, a few asari, even a single elcor merchant who was peddling his wares. Shepard headed towards the medical facility to top off their medi-gel supplies (she, Garrus and Wrex had apparently been ambushed by the bugs when they had been trying to re-connect the hard lines; she had used some gel on an acid burn on her leg, Wrex had medi-gel slathered across acid burns on his hump, and Garrus had some now on his left hand) while the rest of the team meandered in the big room.

It was a sorry lot, these people. Civilians, under siege for a week now, with precious little hope for rescue and attacks at all times of the day and night. No matter the universe, civvies just weren't prepared for such realities. The empty stares he got were the same kind that came from evacuees and refugees in the UNSC.

Shepard came back and headed for the elevator– not the direction for the labs where Benezia was headed. He headed for the elevator too.

"Shouldn't we be going to the labs, Commander?" he asked her as he fell into step just behind her.

"Captain Ventralis seemed to think it would be a good idea for me to speak to Han Olar before I did anything else," Shepard replied as they entered the elevator. "I know it's not the direct route to Benezia, but she's been here for days now; I don't think she's going to go anywhere in the fifteen minutes I spend talking to him, if she's even still alive." She stuck her hand out to stop the doors closing as Alenko joined them. "Besides, I'm kind of curious as to what's going on around here."

"I think we all are, Shepard," Alenko replied as the elevator descended.

Jorge just grunted his assent.

The barracks and smaller labs had precious few soldiers in it. Based on comments from the Captain, it seemed as though most of the soldiers had to be on guard duty, and hadn't been getting a lot of sleep, so that was not much of a surprise. But there were some civilians milling about. One was the small, rotund figure of a volus. Han Olar.

"You came to find out about them, didn't you?" he asked tiredly as they approached.

"You mean those things out there?" Shepard asked back.

"Yes. I'm the only survivor from the hot lab, you know." He sounded a bit regretful of that statement.

"Tell me about the bugs."

"About the rachni?"

_Damn. Looks like Wrex was right._

"That's impossible! The rachni went extinct two thousand years ago!" Alenko insisted. Shepard held up a hand, preventing him from speaking further.

"Where did they come from?" Shepard asked Olar.

"They found it in a derelict ship. An egg. Waiting since the last battles. They brought it here–"

"Shut up!" one of the scientists shouted vehemently. "God. You want to get us killed?"

"I don't have any control over who lives or dies here. Do you?" Olar shot back.

"If you're going to be crazy, be the quiet kind," a Turian scientist shouted over, annoyed.

"Crazy?" Olar whispered. He turned back to the three Alliance personnel. "I'm sane. God, am I sane."

"I need to know everything about the rachni," Shepard said, crossing her arms. A door opened somewhere.

Han Olar shook his head. "I've told you everything I can. We brought the rachni back from the dead. In retrospect, a bad decision."

Shepard opened her mouth to reply, but stopped dead. It was not hard to figure out why, because Jorge and Alenko saw it too. A pair of asari, flanked by three geth, weapons drawn.

"Your mission ends here, Shepard," one Asari sneered.

Then a gun sounded, rounds pinging off the shields of one of the geth and all hell broke loose. Both asari flared blue; and one threw a ball of pure force straight for Shepard, the other put a biotic barrier around herself all while the geth opened fire on Alenko, himself, and what must have been an ERCS guard behind and to their left.

Jorge moved quickly, shoving Shepard out of the way of the pulse of blue, taking the hit himself. Unprepared and overextended, the force of the blow sent him staggering as he tried to maintain his balance, which he succeeded in. Then the end of his gun flashed as he brought his weapon to bear.

The fighting was fast and ugly. Han Olar barely dived out of the way of a biotic warp aimed at Alenko, who worked his omni and biotics as fast as he could to confound the enemy. But between the chatter of Shepard's assault rifle and the thunder of his machine gun, the asari and the geth didn't stand a chance.

In twenty seconds, two asari in scientist clothing lay dead, along with three bullet riddled geth. Miraculously, Han Olar and the other two scientists that had been in the room were alive and unharmed, and the security guard had only been wounded. Alenko quickly sorted him out with some medi-gel while Shepard radioed the rest of the team down. Jorge took the time to look around.

"Service entrance, Commander," he reported back to her after examining the door. He tested the door with a quick tug– no response. "Locked."

"If that's where they came from, that's where we'll find Benezia." Shepard activated her omni, opening the connection to the rest of the team again. "Garrus, go ask Captain Ventralis for access to all secondary areas–"

"Commander, I can get this open myself," Jorge cut in. She shot him a glance.

"Garrus, belay that and get down here with everyone else."

Jorge set down the gun and rubbed his hands together. Kat would likely have been able to hack the door open within a few minutes, likely Tali would have been able to do the same. But, Jorge didn't care, and he was quite capable of solving the problem in a unique and particularly Jorge method: brute force.

The door was designed to split into two horizontally, with the lower part dropping into the floor. Any species besides an Elcor normally wouldn't be able to even get leverage– the door part was at nearly two meters in height, taller than most species. But then, Jorge wasn't an average human.

Jorge slammed an armored elbow into the divide of the door, creating a small dent. Enough to get his fingers purchase on the upper and lower parts of the door. He jammed his fingers in, and put enhanced muscles to work. The gearing protested against the forces arrayed against it, but with a squeak of metal, it finally gave way. It took a bit more muscle to keep it going, but the door was open.

Jorge clapped his hands together in satisfaction. He turned around to find Alenko close behind him.

"You know, I really shouldn't be surprised anymore," he muttered aloud. "I mean, after going hand-to-hand with a Krogan Battlemaster, crushing a Geth Destroyer, then flipping the Mako, I really shouldn't be surprised you opened a secured heavy-duty door just by prying it open like a pair of elevator doors."

Jorge just shrugged. "All in a day's work."

Alenko just shook his head. "You really are something else, Op Chief."

The rest of the team came up just as they got back to Shepard. By now, the scientists and the lone security guard had evacuated up the same elevator the team had come down, so there would be no potential civilian casualties, at least not without going through some very jittery and gun-happy ERCS guards.

Shepard singled out Liara, and whispered some words to her that Jorge could not make out from where he was. She put her head down, her expression sad, but determined. Then Shepard turned to the rest of them.

"Alright, everyone. I'm sure by now you know we were ambushed by commandos and Geth from Benezia. Also, Wrex was right, those bugs we've been facing were Rachni." Wrex grinned at Alenko, who pointedly was not looking at the krogan. "We'll be looking into that once we deal with Benezia. But for now, those commandos came from Benezia, which means that Benezia should be somewhere close to the door that Jorge has kindly opened for us. Everyone be prepared."

Shepard took the lead, followed closely by Liara. Jorge fell into easy step just behind Liara. Facing Benezia would be hard for her; if he was in her place, facing down Halsey with orders to kill or capture her, he wouldn't be able to do it. He couldn't, no matter who gave the orders, and he couldn't imagine it would be any different for Liara.

The service tunnel had been locked for a reason; it was little more than a tunnel through the mountain, cold, uninsulated, and full of snow and ice. A rachni soldier had apparently found its way into the tunnel at some point and was quickly dealt with. The next door they went through was thankfully unlocked.

"That leads back to the main quarters," Garrus told them as he consulted his omni. He pointed to the door to their left. "That leads to the Quarantine Labs."

"Didn't Captain Ventralis say that was where Benezia was?" Williams asked.

Shepard nodded. "And that she hadn't been seen or heard from since she went in there three days ago. If she's still alive, she's probably in there still."

With that, she unfolded the shotgun off her back and strode forward. She was followed by Wrex, then by Liara, then by himself. Time to do what they came here to do.

First one, then another, set of doors let them into the Quarantine Lab. They clumped together on a small square platform, with a few ubiquitous crates on it. There were four such platforms, one in each corner of the room, with the team in the lower left corner. In the center was a raised central platform, partially protected by glass. It accessed a large glass cylinder, suspended from a crane, in which the largest bug Jorge had ever seen sat cramped– the Rachni was nearly the size of the Mako, and he had no doubt that it weighed proportionally.

But most importantly, there was a lone Asari Matriarch on the upper level, dressed in cap of some sort that covered her fringe and a skin tight dress of what appeared to be leather of some sort that was nevertheless cut low enough to show a good amount of cleavage. She barely turned her head as they entered.

"You do not know the privilege of being a mother," she droned. "There is power in creation. To shape a life; turn it towards happiness or despair." She turned to them. "Her children were to be ours, raised to hunt and slay Saren's enemies."

He could feel William's eyes rolling. He suppressed the urge to do that himself–honestly? A monologue? And why the hell wasn't Shepard doing anything about it? Shouldn't they be moving to capture the target? But it was Shepard's lead, and she stood motionless. Just behind her, Liara seemed restless. Just behind Liara, Jorge stood with deceptive ease, gun hanging limply from one hand. The other was well within neck-snapping distance of her.

It seemed he was not the only one who was concerned with Liara.

"I will not be moved by sympathy, no matter who you bring into this confrontation," Benezia told them, her eyes fixed on her daughter.

"Liara is here because she wants to be, not because I'm forcing her." Liara stood up straighter at Shepard's pronouncement.

"Indeed." Her focus returned to her daughter. "What have you told her about me, Liara?"

"What could I say, Mother?" Liara stepped forward with fire in her voice. "That you're insane? Evil? Should I explain how to kill you! What could I say?!"

_That's one hell of a way to speak to your mother._ On the one hand, Jorge took a serendipitous step forward to keep her within easy killing reach. On the other, he was impressed that Liara had recognized what her mother had become and was (maybe) prepared to fight against it.

Benezia was unimpressed. "Have you ever faced an Asari Commando unit before? Few humans have."

"You'd kill your own daughter?" _Using the daughter angle against Benezia? Could work._

"I now realize that I should have been stricter with her." _Or not._

Benezia flared blue as the team raised their weapons. Before even a single shot was fired, she threw her arm forward– and Jorge suddenly found himself unable to move. Every ounce of Mjolnir-aided enhanced muscle strained, to no avail, against his invisible bonds. In the corners of his eyes, he saw his teammates similarly immobilized.

A pair of asari in commando leathers jogged up beside their Matriarch, assault rifles at the ready. He heard the hiss of doors opening, no doubt letting in more reinforcements.

The combination of curses in German, Hungarian, English and Russian in his head (he couldn't say them aloud because his mouth was frozen too) would have had a normal civilian blushing. Halsey would have had a strongly disapproving glare; Mendez would have ordered him to do a few hundred pushups and crunches for it. None of it changed the fact that Mendez would have made him do a couple thousand more for underestimating his enemy and being immobilized in a hostile situation.

"Kill them all," Benezia ordered as she turned away.

Jorge had read up on biotics, and he knew what this was. Stasis field; the biotic used their fine control over gravity to lock every molecule in the target up, freezing it for a short length of time. Unblockable, even by the most advanced of shields. How long depended upon a number of variables, including interruption via damaging events (bullets), how many targets were frozen, strength of the biotic–

The field dropped and Jorge had to curb his motion, lest he violently crush his gun or smash their only cover. The world slowed as he took in the situation– two asari and the Matriarch on the platform, another two asari on the same level as them to their right, across a small catwalk. All were flaring. All were no doubt highly talented Commandos, they had to be to become a Matriarch's bodyguards. Not a good situation, being in the middle of a crossfire against some of the most talented warriors this universe knew. This was going to be a real test of the team. Shepard had no time to give orders. They were going to have to trust each other to know what to do. Even Liara.

It was going to be real interesting to see who was left standing at the end of the next five minutes.

Jorge pivoted right and advanced, machine gun blazing even as the world erupted into chaos around them. Blue balls of gravity flew everywhere. The Asari's shields lit up from tech attacks and bullets. His own shield spiderwebbed and sparked as bullets impacted them.

Then gravity abruptly reversed.

The 'lift' biotic attack worked by reversing the mass of a target, causing them to float off the ground–usually. In practice, a biotic of a given power can only reverse so much mass; the heavier the object, the less lift it would achieve. An average biotic with training could lift a person or two; talented biotics, such as these two, could lift a few Krogan at a time. Jorge weighed nearly a metric ton. Far heavier than any single krogan, true, but to experienced Asari Commandos, he was liftable with some room to spare.

He felt his feet lift off the ground and his gun began pushing him back before he noticed. With a quick thought he activated the magnetic locks in his boots, and with a clang hit the metal grating underneath him.

Then he lifted his now nearly-weightless gun in one hand, braced himself with the hand that was normally holding the barrel, and opened fire again.

The look on their faces was priceless as he opened fire one-handed on them with an HMG.

Then one exploded in electric fury– someone had just used an overload directly on a target without shields. She screamed as she convulsed, smoking. With almost contemptuous ease, Jorge adjusted the machine gun and ended her misery. The other was hit by a tech grenade and stopped firing just as a slim figure darted around Jorge– Tali. Jorge stopped firing as the quarian launched another tech grenade, dropping the shields of the asari, and before she could do anything else, a blast from the quarian's shotgun ended her life. She was followed quickly by more than half the team, Williams, Alenko, Wrex, and Vakarian stepping around his massive form to evacuate right.

Then the door opened and a trio of Geth stepped into the melee. He was about to engage when a shouted command caught his attention.

"Jorge we need that machine gun on Benezia now!" Shepard called out, echoing between the squad comm and the shout. The two Asari Commandos that were with her were dead, and apparently Benezia had taken that as a sign that she should rejoin the fight. This was definitely not a good thing. Her biotics were literally tearing what little cover the team could use. With most of the team out of there it was down to her and Liara, but that seemed to in no way deter the Matriarch.

The hail of fire from a new direction caused Benezia to go on the defensive, putting up a barrier powerful enough to soak prolonged fire from even his gun. Then, with a frown on her face, she launched a sphere of biotic energy at him. It wasn't exactly ideal conditions to dodge, what with being in the middle of a small walkway. So Jorge tightened his stance, put his up armored shoulder to the enemy, and braced himself.

The blue ball hit with the force of an oncoming berserk brute. Jorge was blasted backward, and, reeling, was flipped over the railing and into the wall, off the raised grates that the others were walking on. He floated, weightless, in a heap a by the wall. He may have even blacked out for a moment.

Jorge shook some sense back into his head. The asari back in the pirate base had barely given him a love tap compared to the force the Matriarch conjured up! Then, he suddenly felt very heavy. He had to grab the railing and heave himself back onto the walkway as the effects of the biotic lift abruptly ended; no wonder she'd hit him so hard, he'd only weighed a fraction of what he normally did!

Recovered, he swung around and fired upon the lone Asari Commando that was trying to take down Shepard and Liara- Benezia had retreated to the central platform, with enough cover that no one could see her. Why, he did not know, but if she was capable of unleashing biotics of that strength he was glad she was playing defensive for now.

The last synthetics fell sparking just as the Asari took a bullet to the gut and collapsed. The team fell in behind Shepard and Liara, with Jorge once again right behind Liara, as they moved up to the central platform to confront Benezia.

"This is not over," Benezia whispered as she stood, panting, on her hands and knees; biotic exhaustion. "Saren is unstoppable. My mind is filled with his light! Everything is clear!"

She managed to get shakily to her feet and stood, staring at the rachni in the tube, her back to the team.

"Tell us where Saren is," Shepard demanded.

"I will not betray him," Benezia shook her head. "You will... you will..."

A change came over her as she stood and turned to the team. She stood straighter, and gone was the haughtiness in her face and voice. Instead, there was struggle.

"Saren still whispers in my mind, I can fight... briefly, but the indoctrination is strong," she grunted out.

Jorge's mind raced. The last time he had heard such a thing had not been too long ago. "Commander, Shiala."

She caught on quickly. "We ran into Shiala on Feros. She told us about indoctrination."

"You do not know what it is like, to be trapped within your own mind. To beat upon walls of glass as your body commits unspeakable horrors before your eyes..." she shuddered. Then shook herself. "I do not have long. I came here seeking the Mu Relay; it's position was lost thousands of years ago."

"Why?"

"Two thousand years ago, the rachni inhabited that region of the galaxy, they found the relay. The rachni can share memories across generations; queens inherit the knowledge of their mothers. I took the location of the relay from the Queen's mind. I... was not gentle."

"But why does Saren want the location of the relay?"

"He believes it will lead him to the Conduit, the Prothean weapon that will aid him in his fight. Beyond that, I do not know."

Shepard considered for a moment. "We're going to need that information if we want to track Saren down. Do you still have it?"

The thinnest smile Jorge had ever seen graced the elderly asari's features as she pulled an OSD out of what must have been the lone pocket on her skin-tight dress. "I transcribed the data to an OSD. Take it. Please."

Jorge tensed as she approached, ready to spring into action. After all, she had said she didn't have long in control, no doubt she would attack again at any time. But she merely handed the small drive over to Shepard.

"Knowing the relay's location is not enough," Liara said. "Do you know where he intended to go from there?"

Benezia shook her head at her daughter. "Saren wouldn't tell me his final destination, but you must find out quickly; I transmitted the coordinates to him before you arrived."

Shepard swore under her breath, as did most of the rest of the team.

"You have to stop–" she shuddered, her whole frame wracked with spasms. "–me! You have to stop me! I can't, I can't... his teeth are in my ear, fingers on my spine, I..." she retreated quickly, away from the team as they collectively raised their rifles. All except Liara.

"You should... you should..." she repeated to herself, head in her hands.

"Mother, I..." Liara stepped forward, emotion heavy in her voice. "Please, don't leave! Fight him!" she begged.

Benezia turned once more to face the team, her eyes only for her daughter, her face twisted in struggle. "You've... always made me proud, Liara..." she gritted out.

Liara slumped.

Then Benezia turned fully around. Gone was the struggle. Now the face of the elder Asari showed only haughty confidence, the same expression she wore when she had taunted Shepard earlier.

"Now... die!" she commanded, flaring blue.

Jorge heard Liara's stricken sob even as her pistol came off her hip and she flared in a blue corona of her own. The next moment he had grabbed her and shoved both of them off to the side, avoiding the force that barreled along the ground like a freight train, simultaneously getting them out of the way and opening the firing lines for those behind them.

Fire slackened as he heard the startled exclamations of the teammates caught in the biotic attack, but he ignored them for now and opened fire. At point blank range, the machine gun spat death, but this was an Asari Matriarch, and a powerful one at that; the barrier she conjured ate his bullets. At least, long enough for her to throw a sphere of blue at him.

Jorge was knocked backwards from the force, and had to take a step to stabilize himself. Certainly not as bad as the first time she'd hit him, but still, far more than the pirate Asari had managed to do to him. And he'd certainly done enough damage in the time his gun had been aligned, because quite suddenly, before he could bring himself to bear again, the light show went out, and Benezia was down on the ground, a pool of alien blood spreading from her abdomen.

She gasped for a moment like a fish out of water, her features twisted in obvious pain, but managed to sit up as the team converged on her, weapons ready.

"I... I...cannot go on... you will have to stop him... Shepard..."

"Alenko, medigel, stat!"

"_No_!" Everyone almost fired as she grabbed Shepard's arm. Jorge would have fired, except he was behind Liara and Garrus and had no clear shot.

"No. He is still in my mind. I am not entirely myself anymore, I never will be again." She released her hold on Shepard and pulled herself up against the wall into a sitting position.

"Mother..."

Benezia smiled, the first real one Jorge had seen with any happiness behind it.

"I am glad to have seen you one last time, Little Wing. I will see you again with the dawn."

Then she coughed, blood splattering her no doubt expensive dress, and heaved in a shuddering breath before slumping over.

"Why is there no light?" Benezia muttered. "They said there would be a light..."

The eyes of Matriarch Benezia closed one final time as her final breath left her body. Liara let out a muffled, shuddering sob.

Jorge held a solemn internal moment of silence. It had never occurred to him, even after speaking with Shiala, that Benezia had been indoctrinated. That she had managed to break free, and provide them with useful data, spoke to her character. She was a brave woman, and deserved a moment of respect.

Jorge let out a breath as he took his helmet off. In truth, she deserved much more than just a moment of silence. Liara, poor Liara, she deserved time to mourn, time to bury, time to make up for the mistakes that appeared to have driven them apart, but unfortunately, time waits for no man. They still had Rachni to deal with and–

Movement behind them caught his eye, and he whirled to see the Asari Commando that had been gut-shot earlier stand. It was a jerky movement, like a puppet was pulling the strings, and since she left her weapon on the ground, his first inclination wasn't to shoot her but to investigate.

"Commander?"

Shepard, along with the rest of the team turned to see what he was talking about, and promptly stared as the asari limped awkwardly along. Her eyes were completely closed, her head limp, and her shuffle akin to that of the dead even as her abdomen leaked blood at a steady pace. The asari stopped just in front of the chamber holding the rachni, then turned around. The head lolled back, and everyone started as her eyes opened.

"_This one... serves.. as... our voice_," the asari spoke as the aachni shifted behind her. A second, whispery tone was overlaid with the asari's own. "_We cannot sing... not in these low spaces. Your musics are... colorless._"

"Err... musics?" Shepard asked the question on everyone's mind.

"_Your way of communicating. It is strange; flat. It does not color the air. When we speak, one moves all. We are the... mother._"

By now, recognition had dawned on most of the party. But it was Wrex who stated it.

"You're the rachni Queen," he spat.

"_We sing for those left behind. The children... you thought silenced._"

Shepard walked past the asari, examining the queen within her glass prison. The head of the big bug studied her back.

"_We are Rachni._"

"Dead, you mean," Wrex said. "I bet one of those buttons kills her somehow. Binary Helix wouldn't risk bringing back the rachni without some sort of precautions."

"She's not going anywhere, Wrex. I want to hear what she has to say," Shepard told them as she stepped back in front of the asari. "How are you speaking through her?"

"_Our kind sings through touchings of thought. We pluck the strings, and the other understands. She is weak to urging; she has colors, we have no names for. But she is ending; her music is bittersweet. It is beautiful._" The asari very pointedly turned her head and looked directly at Shepard. "_The children we birthed were stolen from us, before they could learn to sing. They are lost to silence. End their suffering, they cannot be saved._"

"She must mean the rachni that have been attacking us," Tali voiced.

"Why should we stop with them?" Wrex asked. A handwave from Shepard and everyone was silent again.

"We can deal with them, though I'm surprised you don't want us to try to save them," Shepard replied.

"_They cannot be saved. It is lamentable. Do what you must. But before you deal with our children, you must first deal with us. We stand before you, at your mercy. Will you release us? Or are we to fade away once more into history?_"

"Fade away," Wrex said decisively. "I think I even found the right button to flood the thing with acid. No more rachni."

"And you will NOT push it without my command, got it, Wrex?" Shepard said warningly. His reptilian eyes narrowed.

"You can't honestly be thinking about bringing them back, Shepard. The blood of MY people was spilled sending these bugs to the grave where they belonged, don't forget."

"No!" Liara cut in. "You can't kill her! You would be killing an entire species! Extinction is not the answer here!"

"We could take it to the Citadel," Garrus mused.

"And let the Council decide her fate?" Jorge asked. "Hmph. Hate to say it, Commander, but the rachni were hunted to extinction for a reason."

"That does not mean they deserve to die!" Tali said with surprising heat.

"We can't just do nothing," Williams cut in. "I mean, Binary Helix was experimenting on them, trying to create soldiers. We can't let them do that anymore."

"Enough!" Shepard shouted over the increasing din. The room fell silent as she looked each and every one of them in the eye.

"As the ranking officer here, and as the only one wielding the authority of the Council, the decision is mine, and mine alone. And it will be made now, and each and every one of you will follow my decision. Am I understood?"

Even Wrex grudgingly nodded.

"Good."

With that, Shepard walked to the console, and studied it for a moment. It was not hard to see the button Wrex was talking about, a large circular red button. Shepard did a little bit of digging in the console before a large green holographic button appeared next to it. Then she put her hands behind her back and bowed her head in thought.

"What would you do, if we freed you?" she asked softly. "Would you attack other races again?"

"_NO_!" the asari vehemently denied. "_We... I do not know what happened during the war! We only heard discordance, songs the color of oily shadows. We would seek a hidden place, to teach our children Harmony. If they understand... perhaps, we would return._"

"She's lying," Wrex growled. Shepard glared at the krogan before turning back to the console.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Jorge heard her mutter, too softly to hear. After a moment of contemplation, she placed her hand on the green switch.

There was shuddering as the crane holding the rachni began to move.

"No!" Wrex snarled. Jorge grabbed the krogan by the arm, preventing him from moving towards Shepard. Wrex reacted by snarling and trying to throw the big man off, but in the Mjolnir, Jorge both outmassed and outmuscled even the Krogan Battlemaster. It was more like holding an unruly child, at least until Wrex flared with biotics.

"Wrex!" Shepard's voice cracked with authority. "The decision is made. Jorge, let him go."

The krogan yanked his arm from Jorge's with a growl. "I hope you haven't doomed us all, Shepard," he growled at her.

"_We will remember this day,_" the asari said joyfully. "_We will sing of your forgiveness to our children, Shepard! You have our eternal thanks._"

The crane stopped at the level of the balcony opposite them. After a moment, a door on one side of the glass cylinder prison slid back, revealing open air, and freedom. Jorge was surprised to see the giant bug head nod as if in thanks to Shepard, before the massive creature left her prison. Heavy thuds easily told the weight of the creature as the last Rachni queen disappeared out one of the auxiliary doors. They barely even noticed the Asari mouthpiece fall to the floor and continue to bleed out.

"Wrex, Jorge, Williams, you're with me. Garrus, Liara, Alenko, Tali, go tell Captain Ventralis that Benezia won't be coming back, then head over to central station and wait for us there. We need to go to the Hot Labs."

-[{}]-

The atmosphere in the elevator to the Hot Labs was chilly at best, the silence forced. They stepped into the darkened room to find, much to their surprise, that they were not alone.

A single elderly human sat, on a chair that had been taken from somewhere, in the center of the room, completely calm.

"Are you here to secure the situation?" he asked with a noticable accent. Eastern European, or perhaps Russian.

"Yes."

"Please, you must listen to me very carefully. If we do not contain our mistake, they will drop bombs from the battlestations. Do you understand?"

"Wait... you let these things out on purpose?" Shepard asked. Wrex growled.

"Eh... Please, I am only following orders," he defended. "Binary Helix found an egg; it was on a derelict ship, thousands of years drifting. This was Rachni ship; inside, they find many eggs in cyrogenic suspension."

"And then they decided to hatch those eggs," Shepard finished grimly.

"Binary Helix planned to clone rachni, mass produce them," he continued. "Create an army. But when they get here, they find this egg is not a common Rachni. It is a queen! After she lay eggs, they move her to Rift Station, thinking that without her they could raise them to be obedient." He paused and shook his head. "This was exactly the wrong thing to do. I am thinking that without a queen, rachni do not develop properly, her mind is shaping theirs. These rachni are uncontrollable."

"Matches what we heard before, Commander," Jorge voiced. He was reluctant to say just how they had come by the information though.

"Yep. So how do we kill them?"

The scientist stood. "This station is equipped with a neutron purge, for just this situation. We must activate it. Arming controls are nearby. All you do is insert key, then I will–"

Jorge suddenly wasn't listening to the rest of the sentence because a rachni almost literally came out of nowhere behind the man. He stepped sideways and opened fire on the screeching creature as it thrust out a tentacle towards the team. In a few seconds, with the rest of the squad firing as well, it was all over, the Rachni riddled with holes. There was only one casualty.

"Damn, he didn't give me the activation codes."

The scientist was dead, a hole in his unprotected corpse where the claw-tipped tentacle had literally been thrust through his chest. With it were their hopes for an easy solution to this mess, unless... Shepard fished through the pockets of the corpse with surprising speed for someone who didn't know her background. She came up with a crumpled piece of paper.

"Well, let's hope this works," she muttered. The team headed for the nearest Mira terminal, which happened to be in a side room attached to where they were. The terminal flickered to life as the door closed behind them.

"Connecting... I have full access to the facility and am at your disposal," the VI intoned.

"Activate the neutron purge."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that without proper authorization."

A red dot appeared on Jorge's motion tracker. Then another. Then another. Jorge turned to cover the door as more came.

"Code input: 875020879, code omega, local execution."

Jorge's motion tracker was solid red all the way out of range back the way they came from. Not good.

"Code verified. Code Omega execution in one-hundred twenty seconds."

Jorge uttered a very choice word in his native Hungarian which fortunately wasn't translated. But everyone knew what it meant because they were all thinking along the same lines anyways.

"Why the hell doesn't that thing have a timer we could set?!" Williams demanded as she got out her shotgun.

"No time to override, definitely not the time to disarm it. Jorge, you're up front, Wrex, you're next to him. We need to get to that elevator as fast as possible, don't stop for anything, muscle your way through if you have to. If you two don't manage to get a clear path, we're all dead."

Jorge shifted the machine gun to his pack and mag-locked it to the giant metal box. The machine gun was going to be more of a hinderance than a help here; he would need his hands free if he was playing linebacker. Time for a good-old Spartan charge-and-barge.

He and Wrex lined up just outside the sensor range of the door. The moment it opened, from all the movement readings, they were going to be literally inundated in rachni that wanted to kill them...

He felt a tap on his shoulder pad. He moved forward just slow enough to let the door sense him and fully open. He felt the pounding footsteps of the old krogan beside him... then, they were running.

There were less rachni than he was expecting given the mass of readings, but it was still enough to line the walls with soldiers and workers while more came. Beside him, Wrex let out a battle cry and charged forward at a pace Jorge hadn't known the bulky krogan could reach.

Workers exploded at his feet, sending acid over his shields, but he kept going. A soldier whipped its tentacles around, trying to spear him, but his hands grabbed the claws and crushed them before ripping the tentacles out of their sockets, all without breaking his stride. A soldier placed itself in front of them, shrilling out a little warcry as Wrex shotgunned it; then Jorge hit it with his right shoulder and violently threw the creature out of the way, losing comparatively little speed in the process. Another tried the same to Wrex, only to get a shotgun to the face before the krogan jumped over the headless body, followed closely by Williams.

They were almost there... three steps... two steps... one step...

Jorge hit the button for Rift Station before the others were even through the door. Wrex barreled through just as they started to close, followed closely by Williams, whose armor was smoking. Shepard was last, blasting a rachni that had tried to follow them before throwing herself through the closing doors. Several loud clangs were heard.

Then the elevator started moving.

"Ninety seconds to neutron purge," Mira reported as the elevator spread away.

Jorge took off his helmet and slumped against the wall.

_Mission Complete._

-[{}]-

Whew. As I said before, I actually wrote this as a part of the last chapter, but NickKap advised me to split it up.

Also, as someone has pointed out, my 'little' story is now over 120,000 words. Not so little anymore. Honestly did not expect that. Eh. Still my little story in my own head.

For reference here, Benezia hit Jorge with a 2000 Newton force. The max you can get in the game is 1000N, so with a bit of estimating for a near millennia old Asari, I gave that as my general estimate. Now, for the math. Jorge weighs near 1 metric ton, 960kg in my opinion, when he's in his armor. 2000N/960kg give you an instantaneous acceleration of 2m/s^2, which is not all that fast– that's 13.41s to 60miles an hour (26.82m/s, 96kph). So he'd feel it, but it still wouldn't be enough to really do something.

Now. Jorge ALSO got hit with it when he was weightless. For reference, I knocked a zero off his weight (96kg, 211lbs) and re-calculated. 2000N/96kg give you an acceleration of 20.8m/s^2. Now stop and think about that for a moment. Gravity is 9.81m/s^2, which means that whatever Benezia just hit went from standstill to an acceleration of 2Gs in an instant. That's a 0-60mph (0-96kph) time of 1.29 seconds, which is faster than every gas powered car I looked up. I don't care who you are, that's going to hurt. Maybe even kill you.

So yea, double biotics= Jorge getting his clock cleaned.

Anyways, responses to questions from the comments, which I admit I haven't really been paying attention to. If you have a burning desire to get a question answered, re-write it in the review box or send it to me over PM and I'll try to answer it.

Terminal343: I haven't found anything that would prove 1) as a fact right now. I know he's 7'4'' out of armor, wheras John is only 6'10'' out of armor I believe, so I put him down as 'one of the taller Spartans'. Not the tallest, or the strongest, mind you, but up there. As for 2), I swear I had him as active since 2525... if not, I'll change that.

DaLintyMan: I know everyone wants divergence from Mass Effect cannon, but I said it up front and I'm going to say it again: Jorge is a companion. Think Zaeed; an optional extra in the game. Divergence isn't the main thrust of the story, trying to meld UNSC and ME tech isn't the thrust of the story, focusing on Jorge when he's plopped into the ME universe IS the thrust of the story. Yes, there will be some advancements due to his tech, yes, there will be events that are caused or solved by him, but I'm not focusing on all that because I am trying to write Jorge's story.

Knightowl 4183: ;)

Beriothien: True, a lot of corporations on Noveria would love to get their hands on his armor. They aren't going to though. Nobody messes with Jorge.

Guest asking about biofoam: Once biofoam has become a part of the soldier's toolkit, it will be a war asset. I would call it around 200points; the use of biofoam in the reaper war would mean a significant amount of troops that would have otherwise died would be able to get to safety and then return to the front lines once again.

FlawlessCowboy2552: True. However, never underestimate the Council's ability to overlook the obvious. I mean, that Sovereign hologram was obviously a VI program by Saren designed to throw Shepard off the scent of the true enemy, the Geth. As for the second, Kirahee won't make note of it on Virmire- he's in the field, he doesn't need to know and he doesn't really care about Jorge at this point. That isn't to say that the Salarian Union isn't going to find out about him at some point though...

MEHALO: I'm going to answer it here, if that's alright. Jorge will NOT be assigned to the Normandy after ME is over, and as such will not be on ship for the beginning of ME2. He will be given some interesting missions in the 2year interim, something I will hopefully write about someday. And finally, you are COMPLETELY right about Jorge's view of Cerberus. He will be butting heads against them wherever they are encountered.

GOLDheartedHobo: Define 'innocent'. By this point in the story, Tali is an experienced veteran, with more time fighting the Geth than most soldiers get in a lifetime. She also has experience with Jorge; watching him literally crush a Geth Destroyer to save her life, for example. She may have been scared for a second, but with Jorge there... nothing can stop Jorge.

X10-Killbot: drop pods would be amazing, however no one in the ME universe is crazy enough to use them except for maybe, and that's a slim maybe, the N-class of the Alliance. I also agree that biofoam doesn't strictly heal- it stabilizes and applies painkiller, but does not speed regeneration. Combining it with Medigel is, as you say, the best of both worlds. As for Shepard's ME2 enhancements... :) Finally, I didn't deviate from the Rachni release because I believe, and thus my Shepard believes, that tangling the Rachni up in red tape and politics will only get her experimented on or exterminated. And as for your additional suggestion... :)


	29. Chapter 27: Post-Noveria

With the team's victory on Noveria, the team once again found themselves adrift in terms of objectives. The death of Benezia had simultaneously deprived Saren of a powerful ally, provided the team with important information, and denied Saren the potential to use the Rachni as soldiers to do his bidding. It was an large and important blow for the team, but Benezia had been unable to provide any further information on Saren's whereabouts or his future plans. And as useful as knowing the location of the Mu Relay was, they were still unable to use it– the Mu Relay could link to dozens of systems, or worse, it could merely be a stepping stone, a prime relay that led to dozens of secondary relays which led to dozens of systems. They had to know which one they needed to go to before they could use her information.

Which meant that, once again, Shepard was relying upon the intelligence apparatus of the Council to obtain their next objective, and that until then, all they could do was wait. As such, Shepard was taking the chance to visit the Citadel, rearm, resupply, and see if the STG had a lead for them yet.

Jorge should have been sleeping. It was 0030 standard Earth time, the night shift running the ship quietly and smoothly. Shepard had ordered Joker to take his time returning to the Citadel so that the ground team could be fully rested before disembarking upon the station for a day of R&R, and as such they would not be docking with the station until 0830. He should have been asleep, but he couldn't. And not because of the mission.

He had already reviewed the mission in his head, reviewing his mistakes and internalizing counters to be used the next time he was in similar situations. No, there was only one question upon his mind.

Reach.

How dearly he missed it. The first time he had been home in years, and the Covenant had invaded. He knew, when he was setting off the bomb, he would never see it again, but he hadn't imagined he would survive the bomb. To find that this new universe had his home, had Reach, made his heart ache like never before. And he could not get to sleep, not with its location weighing upon his mind.

Jorge heaved himself out of bed, rubbing his tired yet unclosing eyes. If he was going to be awake, he was going to do something. Even if all that was was to keep Joker company in the cockpit.

He went up through the service tubes again, as tight as they were. Even the crew that didn't come to the bay had learned by now that taking the service elevator when Wrex was sleeping was the quick way to get a grumpy krogan, and nobody wanted a grumpy krogan.

He emerged at the end of the sleeping tubes to find that crew deck was not as abandoned as it should be; it appeared that he was not the only one who could not sleep tonight. Doctor Liara T'Soni sat at the dining table, head low and shoulders slumped. Just to her left, clutched loosely in her hand was a dull green glass bottle.

Jorge frowned. Alcohol was strictly prohibited, both on UNSC ships and on Alliance vessels, for obvious reasons. They had taken a number of civilians on to act as teammates, true, but to be honest he had been expecting Wrex to be the one to smuggle such things aboard, not the naive young intellectual. Still, the young woman had just experienced an extremely traumatic and tragic event, watching her mother die before her eyes. Having seen the mourning of countless civilians, and mourned the passing of several of his brothers and sisters, he knew that everyone had a different method of coping with their loss. They weren't scheduled to go into combat anytime soon, and the others would be able to cover if there was. If this was her method of coping, well, Jorge felt he could overlook it this once. As long as it didn't become a habit.

More importantly, though, the sight brought to the forefront his relationship with the team. They weren't family, not like the other Spartan II's, but they were friends. People he could trust with his life– though he had to remember that, unlike most of the others he trusted with his life, they didn't have supernatural reflexes or decades of combat experience. Still, he had Williams he could rely on for any soldiering needs, and Tali was as fierce as any marine he had ever fought with despite technically being a civilian. Garrus was a good sharpshooter, not comparable to other Spartans but a cut well above the average soldier; Wrex, for all his abrasiveness, knew his way around the battlefield and was tough as nails. Alenko was a sound officer, and Shepard, well, he'd be willing to follow her to hell and back.

Doctor Liara T'Soni, Prothean archeologist and biotic powerhouse, daughter to a murdered mother, deserved the same trust that Jorge placed in the rest of the team. She had earned it the hard way.

His footsteps were soft enough that she did not hear him approach. She jumped as he sat down next to her, the bench creaking slightly with his weight.

Her eyes were veined with purple, the asari equivalent of bloodshot eyes. Tear trails were visible on the tiny scales that made up asari skin, with wet patches on her chest and sleeves indicating where they had gone; yet more tears glimmered in her wet eyes. She sniffed, her nose no doubt running along with her tears. She blinked at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments before she closed her eyes again, tears leaking from them as she brought the bottle to her lips.

Jorge sat there for a few awkward moments, trying to think of exactly what to do. Finally, he decided to just be honest and see where that took him.

"I'm sorry. About your mother," he told her softly. Her tear-filled eyes turned back to him.

"I suppose I should apologize," he told her. "I thought, when you first came aboard, that you were a spy or an assassin for Saren. Even after I eliminated those possibilities, I kept a close eye on you. Benezia was your mother, after all, and I didn't think that you would give up on that relationship so easily. I didn't trust you, and I should have, and for that, I'm sorry."

He wasn't, really. He did not regret one moment of observing her to make certain she wasn't a security threat. Safe was better than sorry. If he had to do it over again, with the same information to go on, he would do it all the same. That being said, he told the Doctor what she needed to hear. It was a lie, true, but no one else ever needed to know that.

"I... I..."

She was taken aback by his confession, he saw. It took her a few moments to collect her thoughts, not helped by the alcohol coursing through her system.

"Thank you. I know it must have seemed suspicious, but I had heard what she was doing and I wanted nothing to do with it... oh Mother... but maybe... if I hadn't gone off on the dig.."

"Can't change the past. What's done is done," Jorge whispered. She closed her eyes and rubbed them, fresh tears threatening to break free.

"Just another reason to hate Saren," Jorge continued, mostly to himself. "Took a powerful woman and bent her to his will like a dog. Still, she was strong enough to break the conditioning, give us what we needed, and say goodbye to you."

He turned to her. "You're lucky. It's not often we get to say goodbye to someone we care about, certainly not in person, not in this line of work. Most of the time you just never hear from them again, find out later from someone else what happened. Benezia at least was strong enough to fight it, if only for a little while. Enough time to say goodbye to you."

Jorge couldn't remember ever saying goodbye to any of his family, hell, he hadn't seen any other Spartan II in years. They would hear his fate from Six. If Six survived. If any of his family beyond Halsey were left. In the end, it was likely he would just become another footnote in the battle for humanity's' survival. Assuming humanity survived.

Liara's attempt to stay strong dissolved into anguish. Tears flowed as though a dam had broken open as she sobbed on the table.

Jorge put an arm around her shoulders. It seemed like the thing to do. He would have done it for Williams if he found her here.

He was fairly surprised when the sobbing asari threw her arms around him, as far as they could reach around his barrel chest. She clutched him with surprising strength as she buried her head in his side and proceeded to sob her heart out.

Jorge gently squeezed her back as the distraught asari proceeded to use him as a giant teddy bear. His side quickly became wet with tears; she was likely crying as never before, releasing all the built up tension from the last few weeks and the emotions associated with her mother's death. The alcohol was no doubt helping the process.

Most of the other Spartan IIs weren't exactly big on sympathy, nor were the Spartan IIIs, for that matter. The IIs had all had psychological training to prepare themselves for loss and knew what the civilians were going through, but most were never much to show themselves to anyone outside the program; that, combined with the fact that there was always another objective, always another mission, meant that most IIs grieved, if at all, very quickly before their attention was otherwise occupied. The IIIs, meanwhile, were mostly basket cases in terms of psycological makeup, and the fact that most had been culled from orphans from burned planets meant that they had little sympathy for someone who had lost a loved one or friend; after all, they had lost their entire planet and their entire family as well, all in one blow. The result was that the IIs were very much mechanical, simply moving forward, never stopping. The IIIs just seemed callous, ignoring the death and the trauma it wrought upon civilians.

While most of the time, there wasn't much Jorge could do, he did try to at least understand when a child held her mother's dead body in a death grip while crying. More often than not, words were all he could spare, but sometimes, that was enough. Liara had lost someone very important to her, like Halsey would have been to him, and he could understand that she was upset. Now that he didn't have somewhere to rush off to be, he could offer more than just words.

Jorge was interrupted from his musings as he heard a whispered 'psst'. He looked up to find Shepard, watching from the entrance to her cabin. One finger was on her lips, telling him to be silent; with the other hand, she crooked a finger at his side. He looked down to see that the sobs had been replaced by a fairly steady light breathing; further inspection showed that Liara had fallen asleep at some point during his wandering musings, still clinging to him like an over-sized teddy bear. With a few more quick hand-motions, a plan was set out.

Jorge stood, careful not to wake his hanger-on, then gently gathered the Doctor up in his arms; she did not wake. With gentle steps, he carried her bridal-style to the Captain's cabin, where Shepard was already waiting, and laid her gently in the bed. The two quickly vacated the room.

"I knew you had a soft spot, Jorge," Shepard grinned up as the door to her cabin closed.

Jorge stood up stiffly. "Commander, that's your cabin."

"I've slept in sleep tubes before many times, Jorge, one more night won't hurt. Liara needs a bed more than I do tonight," Shepard replied as she went to the mess table. Jorge followed her, sitting down across from her. As he did so, Jorge noticed a new, full bottle of... well, something, he wasn't exactly intimately familiar with alcohols. But it matched the empty three on the table.

"Picked up a few bottles on the way out of Hanshan," Shepard told him, looking at it idly. "Asari wine. I figured Liara would appreciate a little taste of something familiar for... well.."

"Alcohol, Commander?" Jorge asked severely.

"Alcohol, Jorge," she emphasized. "We are both off duty right now. And as the Commander of this squad and Captain of this ship, I'm willing to overlook a few bottles if that's what helps Liara get over her loss. She hasn't been trained for this the way you and I have."

Jorge rumbled his grudging agreement. That was, after all, one of the main reasons he had protested Tali in the first place; true, he had been more concerned about Liara's parentage than her civilian status, but the fact was that they were civilians before they had been recruited into Shepard's crew. Useful, certainly, Tali was as sharp as Kat and Liara was a real biotic powerhouse when she was on the field, but it didn't change the fact that they didn't have a military background.

But, this was Shepard's game. All he could do was play along.

"Finished reading that report last night," Shepard changed the subject. "One hell of a story, Jorge. Wish we could do something about it, but from the sounds of it I don't think it would be a good thing if they found us."

"No," Jorge agreed. Shepard was skirting classified information here, but she was doing a good job.

"You ever think about it? Everything you left behind?" she asked, sympathy in her eyes.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "I... I've been thinking about Reach, lately."

"What about it?"

Jorge clasped his hands together on the table and stared at them. He didn't know why she was asking, it wasn't like they could afford to do anything about it anyways. Not with Saren still on the loose, not when he could be useful in anti-piracy operations in the Traverse or any of the myriad black-ops operations that no doubt took place in batarian, or krogan, or Terminus worlds. But...

"I... I found it, Commander," he told her quietly. "Reach. My home."

He activated his omni-tool and put a small packet of data on the server. It wasn't much– a few coordinates, and some of the probe data he had used to come to these conclusions. It likely wasn't enough information for someone who didn't know what to look for, but for someone who had already been there, who knew what they were looking for... it was there, if you read between the lines.

Shepard's omni activated as she pulled the data down. He couldn't see it across from her– it was a standard security measure of omni-tools to blur the hand motions and data for those not directly looking at it, a simple security measure– but he saw her going through the data quickly enough. After a minute or so, she looked up.

"What do you want to do with this, Jorge?"

He shrugged. "I was hoping to get some downtime at some point, Commander. After Saren is dead. Rent a jump capable ship. Visit it." _One last time._

"Why wait?"

The response bought Jorge up sharply. There was also no mistaking the slight quirk in the corner of her mouth that he recognized as a smile threatening to come out.

"We have a ship. These are sound coordinates. Let's go!"

Jorge was flabbergasted.

"I... Commander, Saren–"

"Is missing. The combined intelligence agencies of the civilized galaxy are currently scouring the universe for him, and in the meantime, the only thing we have to do is re-arm." She tapped her omni. "These coordinates are less than a dozen light years from Earth itself, which is less than six hours from the Citadel. We could be there and back in two days. Even better, this is potentially a life-bearing planet. You wouldn't want to pass up on discovering, and therefore getting to name and claim the planet for whatever government you want, a brand new, undiscovered world in the name of the Alliance, would you?"

Jorge raised an eyebrow. When the hell did she learn to read him like that? Shepard just broke into a large grin.

"I would like that very much, Commander."

-{[]}-

Jorge spent the rest of the flight in the cockpit with Joker, keeping the pilot company as they waited in lines for relays and cruised through space. Right on time, they reached the Citadel, and were transferred to an Alliance operator for a docking bay.

Jorge put on his modified Onyx armor- he was not on leave this time, and even if the armor was thin and left him feeling more vulnerable than normal, at least it was something. And it had hardpoints for weapons, of which he took all four, of course. Amazing technology, these guns. Being able to carry four weapons was something of a dream for a Spartan, so that any situation could be tackled. They could carry four weapons, true, but ammunition concerns and bulk, not so much weight, typically restricted a Spartan to, at most, two weapons and a sidearm. That, and the elimination of ammunition due to the railgun design would have helped significantly in the war against the Coveneant, he was sure. Many a time had a soldier run out of ammunition; as the one carrying the ammunition for Noble Team, he knew well just how quickly they could run out.

Still, there were always downsides; you didn't have to stop every so often to discharge heat with UNSC weapons, only take a half a second to reload.

_+Everyone has shore leave for the next six hours; cast off is in eight hours for a three-day optional mission, anyone wanting to take extended shore leave on the Citadel, now is the time. Saren is still priority one, keep your communicator close and don't be surprised if you get summoned if you take the leave. That is all,+_ Shepard announced over the intercom.

"Hey, Jorge," Ashley called.

"Williams," he replied.

"Hey, you want to come help me pick out some armor?"

"You can't do it yourself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just wondering if you were interested in coming along," she replied as they stepped into the elevator. "I'm not getting another set from the Quartermaster. No offense to him, but after having had a custom-fit Pheonix, I just need something that fits me better than a standard size. That, and I managed to get acid on my armor again and ruin the paint job."

Jorge chuckled. "Sure, I suppose I could come along." _Not planning on doing much else, to be honest._

_"_Besides, I could use the advice. You never get more than a scratch on your armor," she continued. Jorge just chuckled again.

They exited the elevator and headed up the stairs behind half the rest of the crew and got to the command deck just as the airlock doors opened. The two of them followed the majority of the crew and all of the ground team (Garrus was at the front of the line, and had confided in most of the rest of the team that he was going to find the best turian food restaurant on the Citadel) out the airlock...

...to find Shepard standing, arms crossed, with a pair of Citadel Security guards, one asari, one turian. Looking right at him. The turian guard obviously noticed him, somehow.

"Operations Chief Kadar?" he asked, stepping forward through the tapering throng of bodies.

Jorge nodded warily.

"I am going to have to ask you to come with me."

Jorge raised a questioning eyebrow at Shepard. She just sighed.

"Come on, Jorge. Looks like we've got an appointment with the Council."

-{[]}-

Williams, while initially wanting to come, had been dissuaded when Shepard had mentioned this was likely going to take a while; if she was going to get a custom suit of armor and be ready by castoff, she was going to need all the time she could get. He and Shepard were escorted to a patrol car, where they were taken directly to the Citadel Tower.

Through it all, Jorge wondered: why? What was going on? Why would the Council want to talk to him and Shepard?

They got out of the patrol car and were met with several turians in very expensive heavy body armor- Jorge even recognized one of the assault rifles as the one Shepard had been looking at buying so long ago, the one that cost a quarter of a million credits. No doubt these were the elite bodyguards of the Council.

"I'm sorry, we don't allow weaponry inside. Please disarm, your weapons will be returned to you when you are done."

At a nod from Shepard, Jorge took all four weapons off his back and handed them to the turian to secure. Shepard handed over her pistol and the butterfly knife she had in her back pocket.

"Thank you. You may proceed."

The doors opened to a sumptuous meeting room. A large table dominated one side with many expensive executive chairs surrounding it. The other end had a bar top, no doubt stocked with the rarest and finest vintages from across the galaxy, and featured a slightly more relaxed atmosphere; several soft looking sofas and chairs were arrayed towards each other, with small stands and a very modern art coffee table to put drinks on. A holographic display was in the center, and there were several others on the walls around the room.

The three Councilors were relaxing in the sofa area, drinks in hand. The asari Councilor, Tevos, rose.

"Commander Shepard, Operations Chief Kadar, thank you for coming," she greeted. "Feel free to help yourself to anything at the bar, then please, sit down. There is a matter that we need to discuss."

Jorge shot a look at Shepard. She shot him a cautious look back. _Play along_.

Jorge went behind the counter and got himself a glass of water, very aware of the stare that Sparatus was leveling at him the entire time. Velarn was examining him as well, those big Salarian eyes subtly trying to take in every detail; it was more subtle than the turian councilor, his hood and large eyes helped to hide it, but Jorge saw it all the same.

He got the feeling that the conversation wasn't going to be about Shepard's mission to find Saren.

Shepard sat down on a chair opposite the councillors, a glass of whiskey on the rocks in her hand. Jorge set his glass down on an end table near an empty chair, but remained standing at parade rest.

"You can sit down, Op Chief," Tevos said kindly as she sipped her own mulberry red drink.

"My apologies, ma'am. I don't believe the chair would survive."

"Councillors, if you have information about Saren's whereabouts, I would like to know immediately so I can recall my crew and act on the information," Shepard said with a sip of her whiskey.

"Information on Saren has yet to be uncovered. The best agents of the STG have been scouring the galaxy for him; rest assured, he will be found. But that is not the topic of our meeting today, SPECTRE," Velarn said. He, unlike the others, had no drink.

"When you became a SPECTRE, Shepard, we looked into everything about you. Your background, your military career, your ship. Nothing was left unexamined; blueprints for the Normandy were turned over to the STG to investigate for any potential threats, your interactions with Anderson were examined in minute detail. Even your companions were investigated," Sparatus said, his eyes flicking towards Jorge with that last statement.

Tevos picked up where Sparatus left off. "You must understand, a SPECTRE is above the law, and we in the Council must be very careful whom we give such trust. This is standard procedure, when a SPECTRE is inducted into the ranks. It is only ever performed once, or in the case where an agent is being investigated. But for this one instance, nothing is sacred."

"Most of your investigation turned up nothing that we have not seen before, Shepard," Velarn remarked. "Even the vast majority of your companions, past and present, were not even deemed noteworthy enough to pass along to this Council. But there was one, one single person, who had no history. Nothing."

_Yep. All about me._

"Let me guess: Jorge," Shepard said for the audience.

"You knew of this, Shepard?" Sparatus asked severely.

"It's not exactly hard," she replied, rolling her eyes. "There isn't exactly any other reason why he would be here with us."

"Needless to say," Tevos said hurriedly, cutting Sparatus off, "this is not acceptable. So the investigators turned to the STG."

"The STG files on the Alliance-"

"You were spying on the Alliance?" Jorge accused bluntly.

"The STG spy on everyone, Jorge Kadar," Velarn replied calmly. "One never knows who your next enemy may be; the Hegemony is a good example of that. It is best to be prepared. In this case, the files the STG were able to turn over were very interesting."

With a touch of his omni, the displays around them lit up, the one in the center of the coffee table displaying four separate things.

All images of him.

One was his Alliance profile. One was his armor. Another was a short, looping video of him blowing through the training course on Arcturus Station. There were various other videos, mostly emphasizing him in his armor, starting on the training exercises he had been run through, but moving up to footage from more recent missions, including helmet cam footage from Feros and Noveria.

But the real kicker was the single page, displayed on one face of the coffee table. A single page- the first page, in fact- of the summary of the report that had been compiled from the information he had given the Alliance. One that was so classified that the only person currently who had permission to hand it out was Admiral Hackett and any of the Admirals that were at his debrief, which numbered less than a dozen men.

Jorge fought and won the battle to keep his face neutral. _How in the HELL_ _had the STG gotten this?!_ He could understand the later videos and the helmet cams from his teammates, but the videos from Arcturus? _The report that revealed every UNSC secret he knew?_ He'd heard of the STGs reputation, but this was ridiculous. Had the Alliance ever heard of the words 'data security'?

Still, it didn't change the facts of the situation. He was under orders not to reveal secret documents, even if the things he had sworn not to reveal were staring him in the face.

"Care to explain to your commanding officer, Operations Chief?" Sparatus said aloud.

"No comment."

Shepard chuckled as she took another sip of her drink.

"SPECTRE Shepard," Velarn began, emphasizing her Council-given title. "Need I remind you that you are under the employ of the Council? This is an official Citadel investigation on matters of the utmost importance. We need the full details on this man from the Alliance to formalize making you a SPECTRE."

"I thought I already was a SPECTRE," Shepard said calmly.

"A special case, based on the information we had at the time and at the insistence of the Alliance on speed. Needless to say, this can be revoked at any time. I don't believe that the Alliance would like to suffer the fallout of having their first SPECTRE have her status revoked because of so minor an issue," Sparatus said bluntly.

Shepard just took another sip.

"Councilors, if the Alliance has not shared the information you requested, perhaps you should ask the people with the proper clearance. In fact, I question why we are even having this conversation without an Alliance representative here." She took another sip. "I trust Jorge with my life, and I intend to keep him on my crew until Saren is neutralized. And you are free to assign another SPECTRE to this case, however I am the only one that has the unique knowledge of what he is after at the moment, an advantage that another SPECTRE would lack."

She finished off her whiskey in a single gulp.

"Thank you for the drinks, Councilors," she said as she stood. Jorge followed her out the door, ignoring the looks they were getting from the Council. The two of them retrieved their weapons and were escorted to the main part of the Presidium.

Neither spoke a word. From what he had read on the STG, they were no doubt watching him, likely ever since they had discovered his interesting backstory. Shepard as well was silent, until they got to a more populated section of the Citadel.

"It was a setup the whole time," she murmured under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. No doubt others heard it as well, but she knew how to be discreet… he hoped.

"All about you. I was just there to put pressure on you, either personally or through the Council's threat. Udina wasn't there either, or he would have objected to it all so hard they would have heard it on Earth. Might have worked with someone else, but you straight up stonewalled them, and I trust you, Jorge." _And she knew about what they were prying for anyways, but it was good of her not to mention that where someone could hear it..._

Shepard ground her teeth. "Let them play their little political games," she said loudly. "I don't have time for that bullshit. I've got a traitor to catch."

-[{}]-

Sorry for the delay everyone. It took me a while to get the first part the way I wanted it, and after that, well, my beta reader (NickKap) found that it was just too short to really publish as a standalone.

Well, as you can see, I'm still plugging away at things. Slowly, certainly, but it is still going, and as I have said many times before, I will not stop until ME1 storyline is done. To all of you who have had the patience to stick with me this far, and everyone who has taken the time to leave a comment, thank you for reading.

Edit 1: Whoops, left some stuff in from editing.


	30. Chapter 28: Home

The _Normandy_ left the Citadel with a skeleton crew. Joker and half the engineering staff made up most of the crew, with Chakwas being the only other, all the rest had taken the opportunity for the first official shore leave. As for the ground team, well, Shepard and Jorge were there, obviously. Tali had stayed aboard, as had Liara, who had woken up half way through shore leave in Shepard's cabin with the second worst hangover she had ever had. Williams was waiting for the new armor she ordered, Alenko had wanted to say hi to some old friends on the Citadel, Wrex was doing whatever he wanted, and Garrus was taking the time to catch up with some friends and likely to enjoy some decent food.

This left the _Normandy_ rather more empty than normal for the 6 hour transit to the Local cluster (as it was called by the Alliance) and for the half-day jump to Epsilon Eridani.

Jorge barely noticed. He was preoccupied, full of nervous energy. He was headed home, but was it really home? It was a different universe; probe data suggested that there was a planet there, true, a planet that matched what he would expect Reach to look like, but was it the same? Was he seeing what he wanted to in the data? Was there even a planet there at all? And if there was, would it really be his home?

He tried working it off in the gym, and partially succeeded. The equipment wasn't exactly made to give a good workout to someone like him, but with some creative use of weights and other cargo in the bay, he made it work. But weightlifting could only burn off so much energy, and the ship wasn't exactly made for running. So the rest of the time was spent waiting.

He even had his armor on two hours before the projected entrance to the system. And was in the cockpit with Joker an hour before hand, much to Joker's annoyance.

"Aaanndd three... two... one..."

Dropping out of FTL in an Eezo powered ship was much less dramatic than dropping out of slipspace. There was no tearing of the universe, only a subtle slip back to a speed where the universe wasn't flying by faster than light.

Of course, they were dropping out at the edge of the system. A few scans from the _Normandy_'s sophisticated sensor suite would quickly determine the system layout and planetary positions so they could get a closer look- if there was any reason to look closer.

Shepard came up to his side as Joker's fingers danced over the console. Minutes passed as the VI collated and analyzed the data from the system.

Joker pulled up the results on a large screen for the two of them to see.

"Here we go, Commander. A gas giant, a few planetoid sized masses in the habitable zone, and an asteroid belt.

"We're looking for one with 1.08G earth gravity," Jorge said immediately.

"We are?" Joker asked quizzically.

"Do it, Joker," Shepard ordered.

"Alright, alright," Joker grumbled. A couple of clicks and one of the rocky balls was highlighted.

There was no definition, not yet. Just a round ball with a gravity indication and a cursory element analysis, the same sort of data he would get from a probe flyby. But it was what he was looking for.

And it appeared Shepard saw his interest.

"That one, Joker. Take us into orbit, best safe speed."

"Al-righty, Commander," Joker intoned. "Course laid in for planetoid EE23-2108. Uh, no offense, but why are we so interested in this place?"

"Jorge wanted to see the place," Shepard replied. "Estimated time of arrival?"

"ETA 2 hours Commander. Hey, Jorge, why are you so interested in this planet?"

Jorge didn't trust himself to say anything, so he said nothing.

"That good, huh? Well, could you get off my back? Kind of creepy having you watch everything all over my shoulder for the next two hours."

"Sorry," Jorge muttered. "Please call me when we make orbit."

"Uh, sure thing, big guy," Joker called out as he left.

"Man, what's gotten into him?" Joker asked no-one in particular.

-{[]}-

It was just like he remembered it, from orbit.

Well, minus the cities and other signs of human habitation, of course. There were no shipyards in orbit, no signs that this planet was the powerhouse and fortress of the UNSC. But the landmasses were all the same, the craters and other impact points were all in the right places. He could see the Babd Catha Ice Shelf, where ONI's Sword Base was in his home universe. Off to one side, he thought he saw part of where the Military Wilderness Training Preserve was. Forests, in most of the right places, back breaking mountains everywhere he remembered. Reach was a young world; time had yet to soften the sharp edges of its continents or calm the weather, and this Reach promised to be just as unforgiving and harsh.

He was home.

"EE23-2108. Short range scan show oxygen, nitrogen, high amounts of carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulfide, and trace amounts of noble gasses," Joker reported as the information came in. The few operators who were working were at their posts, feeding him information to give to Shepard, who stood beside the pilot chair along with Jorge.

"Gravity at 1.08 Earth Standard. Large amounts of liquid water, temperatures estimated to be between -50C and 70C. Large amounts of flora and fauna but no signs of intelligent life or civilization," he continued reporting. "Computer analysis indicates no hazards other than atmospherics."

Joker turned around.

"The computer has also flagged this planet as a potential colony suitable for terraforming and is asking for a name."

Shepard looked at Jorge.

"Reach," he replied without any hesitation.

"Right," Joker replied, typing the name into the prompt. "Aaaanddd…. done."

"This system is square within Alliance territory, there should be no dispute to our claim here," Shepard said aloud. "Well Jorge, anywhere in particular you want to see?"

He'd been thinking about that very same question ever since Shepard had announced her intention to go down in the Mako. Where should he go? Should he return to the Highland Mountains and the Wilderness Training Preserve, where memories from his youth resided? Did he want a view? There were mountains some distance away that could provide him with quite a breathtaking view. He had already decided against visiting the ice shelf or the site- well, alternate-history site- of the Visegrad Relay; the most recent memories of Reach were tainted by the presence of the Covenant.

In the end, he decided that, even if it wasn't recognizable, he wanted to see where his memories lay. The MWTP, where he and the other Spartans had spent much of their time outdoors trying to survive the elements.

A few quick scrolls on the haptic interface at the station next to Joker's brought up the general area of the MWTP. It took another few moments for him to decide exactly where he wanted to go- the valley of a mountain where he and the other Spartans had set up camp once during winter survival training; he knew that a little climb had a gorgeous view of the area. The trick was finding it; it took him a few minutes to translate the bearings and landmarks from ground to orbital, but he did, and with a few quick scrolls and a click, designated the site.

"Joker, drop us at those coordinates," Shepard told the pilot. "Liara, Tali, suit up and get in the Mako. Meet us down there in ten minutes."

-{[]}-

The drop was rather sedate compared to some they had done before, but for Jorge, it was no less nerve wracking. The feeling of weightlessness made him think he was in a drop pod, like his first experience, dropping to the MWTP for the first time. The retro-jets fired, slowing them just like the disposable metal parachutes the pods used, and it was all capped off by the shock of landing; the only difference was that it was not the bone-jarring thud of a pod, but rather the damped springy feel of the Mako.

He was back on Reach.

The Mako hadn't moved at all, and Jorge was suddenly aware of the fact that Shepard was staring over her shoulder at him.

"You alright Jorge?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," he answered automatically. The look she shot at him made it clear she knew just how much that was not true.

"Everyone seal up. Jorge, where do you want to go?"

Jorge pulled up his omni and tapped in a few coordinates. Joker had put them down a handful of kilometers away from the valley, where it was smooth enough to land and not obstructed by trees.

"Coordinates received. Be there in a few minutes," Shepard called out as she gunned the engine.

The view he had out the front window wasn't much. Only the fact that he knew this planet was the equivalent of the homeworld he had left behind differentiated it in any way from the other rocky, verdant habitable planets they had visited before.

The way Shepard drove, it wasn't long before they came into the valley. With their path blocked by numerous trees, Shepard slowed to a stop.

"Take as long as you need, Jorge," she said over a personal channel. The hatch opened, letting him uncurl from his position in the cargo section and leave the Mako. Grabbing his machine gun, he jumped out.

"There were some unidentified readings near here I'm going to investigate, and some mineral outcroppings that can be surveyed as well. Let us know when you're ready."

The Mako sped off with the rest of the crew. Soon enough, the sound of the engine was lost to the breeze and the Mako itself was out of sight.

He was alone.

It was different, of course. The Reach of his time had been colonized for centuries and been terraformed for the same amount of time. That meant Earth flora and fauna had inevitably made the trip as well. Pines and Evergreens in particular had flourished across the planet, and when Jorge had been here as a part of his training a universe and three decades ago, the native Earth plants had been as numerous as the native trees. Looking at the forest that filled the valley now and not seeing such trees left him feeling... well, a little uncomfortable, to be honest. Like coming home one day to find all the furniture had been replaced.

A call echoed through the valley. Jorge recognized it as a call from a moa, and had to chuckle. Big, tough, and ornery, the moa burgers and steaks he'd had in his youth were some of the best eating he had ever had. And it appeared he had managed to come to Reach in mating season; he'd heard that call several times, and it always meant good eating. The males had precious little sense when it came to mating season.

At least some things were still the same.

Looking around at the valley, Jorge picked a destination he thought he recognized (the general shape of the ridge he recognized, but the last time he had been here it was covered in pines), grabbed his HMG, and headed off into the forest.

-{[]}-

The moa repeated the call just as Jorge crested the ridge. Persistent bastard, and unlucky too, to have not found a mate yet. He'd managed to identify the season, and it was nearing the very end of the mating time for moas. Chances of him finding a female were slim.

The half-hour walk up the incline through the forest had been surreal. There may not have been pines or evergreens, but the forest still felt very much like Reach. And when he got to the top...

When they had sheltered here over the winter, they, like any good military operation, had posted sentries, and the reason he had picked this ridge was because it was where their lookout had been, not too far from the camp, with good views of the surrounding area.

And it was, exactly the same. The rocks on the ridge were exactly the same as when he had been posted up here as sentry, a universe and four hundred years into the future.

He was home. He was really home.

It wasn't quite the same. But it could be. And that was what really mattered to him.

He set the machine gun down and sat on a rock, overlooking the valley, relaxing in the moment. He didn't know what his brothers and sisters had wanted out of their lives, but after all the pain he had gone through, all Jorge wanted was to settle down. Once his skills were no longer needed, obviously, something that meant that he had resigned his hopes to nothing more than a dream. But still...

A farm. Something simple, where he could put honest blood, sweat and tears into an endeavor that did not involve killing people, and receive the fruits of his labor in return for the rest of his days. Not far outside a small town of some sort; his Reach had lots of small communities dotting the countryside. He had grown up in one, until the UNSC had taken him to serve. There was an air of country hospitality that he loved, where everyone greeted a stranger with a smile upon her face. That was all he wanted, really. Somewhere on Reach where he could make a life for himself. It didn't have to be easy, it just had to be his. A quiet life, no bullets or bombs, where the axes were used to chop wood and the knives to cut meat–

The mating call of a moa cut through his thoughts with desperate volume.

Jorge grumbled, the moment ruined. Besides, it was unlikely such a thing would occur, even in this universe. Back home, there was the Covenant, here, there was Saren, and the Batarians, and the Geth, the list went on and on. And Jorge refused to simply quit while there was still something to contribute to any of those causes.

Humph. Same shit, different cause, different day. But Jorge kept going. Because in the end, it was worth it. Against the Covenant, survival of the species, of humanity, of the UNSC, was worth everything up to and including his life. Against Saren, the rogue SPECTRE who threatened human colonies with a ship that could bend minds, his sacrifice, if it was necessary, would be worth it.

The call of the moa cut off his thoughts once again, and Jorge growled. Damn thing. Couldn't he get a moments peace to himself?

As if in answer to his unspoken question, the call cut the air once again.

_Fine. If it's going to be that way, I can work with it. I haven't had moa in more than two decades..._

-{[]}-

The spirit around the dinner table that night, with all the crew including Joker in attendance, was jovial. The _Normandy_ didn't have much of a kitchen, or a dining table, but such trivial problems were either surmounted or ignored on this day.

Moas were not exactly small creatures, the large birds standing with necks that managed to reach nearly to his own. There were few predators that could take them down in one blow, such as Guta, and the result was that during mating season, the males would rush to any potential source of sound that they heard approaching, wishing to intercept any potential mate before another male could do so. Of course, if it wasn't a female moa, the male would quickly show just how sharp those claws on their feet were, but against someone in power armor, well, it just didn't have the same impact.

Of course, moas have no natural protection against combat knives.

And so, after examining a very interesting Prothean ruin, finding a damaged survey probe (the same one he had analyzed data from, interestingly enough), and surveying a few mineral deposits in the area, Shepard and the Mako had returned to find Jorge waiting for them at the edge of the forest with one very large dead bird.

After announcing his intention to give everyone a good meal, the four of them went on a scrounging expedition for fruits, nuts, and other berries after Liara expressed her more vegetarian preferences. The result was that the Mako returned to the ship with nearly two hundred pounds of moa meat and medium sized container full of assorted nuts, berries, and fruits, all native to Reach, of which no-one who had been born in this universe had ever tried.

And so, with a little jerry-rigging from Tali, a makeshift grill was made (the _Normandy_ did not have a full galley, it was strictly re-heated food) and Jorge and a fellow crewmember who had professed to being good with a grill were taking turns making moa burgers and moa steaks. Together with the assorted fruits and vegetables, the crew of no more than a dozen had more than enough to go around.

"This is good stuff," Joker said around a mouthful of burger.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Joker," Shepard admonished lightly. Joker shrugged.

"Whatever. Hey, what'd you call this again, big guy?"

"Moa," Jorge supplied as he sat down with a burger of his own. As the cook, he was one of the last to eat. "Big flightless birds."

He was dearly looking forward to this, the first time he'd had moa meat in over two decades. And it did not disappoint. The first bite brought back memories of other such meals, of the gamey flavor and texture of the meat. Like chicken with a bit of steak thrown in. Yet another thing that had not changed.

"Isn't hunting normally illegal on protected planets?" Liara asked as she picked at her assorted fruits and vegetables. There was a small side of meat, but it was only half eaten at this point.

"Normally, yes," Shepard said. "However, considering that Jorge was 'attacked', and that we are truthfully saving some of all of this as samples for the official survey team, I think we are in the clear."

"Speaking of which, how did you know which plants were edible just by looking at them? I would not think that you would be able to tell just by looking at them whether it was poisonous or not," Liara asked curiously. Jorge almost choked on his burger. Whoops.

"Survival training," Jorge told her after he cleared his throat. Which was partially true, of course.

"Best meal I've had in years," Shepard declared, sampling a fruit the size and general shape of an apple. He knew from personal experience that it tasted more like a cherry crossed with a pineapple though. "To Jorge, for providing this bounty for our feast!"

"To Jorge!" the table toasted, 'clinking' their plastic water cups together. All except one.

Jorge watched as Tali quietly disassembled the makeshift grill as everyone else feasted upon the food. From her slumped shoulders and the looks she was shooting at the table, he guessed that she was feeling left out of everything, and she was, in an unfortunate way. Reach was a levo-amino world, which meant that while everyone else on board was feasting upon the fruits of an undiscovered world, Tali was still stuck sucking bland nutri-paste from a tube for her dinner. Worse, this kind of feast, simple as it was, was something that she had likely never seen or been a part of in her lifetime. You couldn't exactly compress a moa steak into a tube without losing something in the process.

Shepard's omni chimed as she received a message from the VI currently running the ship, just as Jorge finished off his burger. The meat was excellent, as were the vegetables, but the bread that had been scrounged from MRE meals left quite a bit to be desired. His meal finished, Jorge got up from the chatter at the table and headed for Tali as Shepard went up the stairs to the flight deck.

She had the makeshift grill disassembled now, and was slowly putting the components away; power cables back to engineering, electrical heat tubes to... somewhere, he didn't know. Either way, Jorge offered her a smile as he grabbed a handful of things and followed her to the freight elevator.

"I'm sorry you could eat anything," he said sympathetically.

"It is alright. Not your fault the planet was levo," she replied easily.

"Still, you came along with me all the way out here. Tell you what, I'll buy you a _vithri _steak tube once we get back to the Citadel," Jorge told her. As with everything in this universe, money could buy you quite a bit; in this case, a turian steak that Garrus loved, but was prohibitively expensive when made into a high-quality tube paste. But there was enough of a market for it among soldiers that it sold well.

"Oh, you don't have to..."

"Yes I do," he told her gently as they put what they had grabbed in an engineering spare parts locker.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Jorge just chuckled.

They got back to the crew deck just as Shepard came down the stairs.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Shepard called over the conversations. Everyone immediately shut up; Shepard was in full officer mode right now.

"Alright everyone, shore leave is officially over. The Council has just contacted me with a potential lead on Saren. Joker, once we hit the Local cluster, use my SPECTRE status to get us to the Citadel ASAP. We'll pick up the rest of the crew there and then head off. So enjoy the meal, clean it up, then prep for normal operations, people," Shepard ordered. She headed off to the Captain's quarters as the crew burst into talk, now about the mission rather than the food.

_Back to work._

-{[]}-

First, I'd like to apologize for taking so long. To be honest, I've been putting this chapter off, because, well, it was kind of intimidating. I knew that it was going to be an emotional chapter for Jorge, something of great importance to him, and I wanted to get it right. I'm not entirely certain I did. All I can hope for is that you aren't disappointed by it too much.

I probably should have had an editor go through this, but, well, I was writing this weekend and I realized that I had managed to write in the perfect reason for a Thanksgiving-style dinner the exact same week of Thanksgiving. Once I made that connection I knew I had to release it today. And it was a rush to finish it up, I wrote the last bit this morning.

I've also been neglecting comments, so here are some answers, and if you guys have a burning question, feel free to PM me; no gaurentee I'll give you a straight answer, but hey, you can try to wrangle one out of me ;)

Anyways, Happy Thanksgiving! Or, if you aren't in the US, uh, Happy Thursday?

X10-Killbot: The problem with drop pods is that, as safe as you make them, they will always be dangerous. That, and that they have minimal control during the descent, and are essentially one-time use. All the other races have decided that it is just as effective, and cheaper, to take a shuttle down, which can carry more people and more accurately pick a landing site, and additionally has the option of letting the group bug out if things get too hot. As for krogan, well, yes, krogan would likely be willing to use drop pods, but that implies they have a military, which they don't. They just hitch rides on whatever else everyone uses.

As for Jorge's future, well, he will have a delayed start in ME2- he won't be on the station when Shepard wakes up. And yes, Spartan enhancements (or rather, part of them) will be on the table for ME2... though what purpose it has, and where it shows up, I'm not going to give everything away here.

As for Virmire... :)

Nukes... the problem with nukes is that you get the same force yield from the mass accelerator of a ship, without having to deal with all those pesky things like radiation fallout or atmospheric contamination. The real problem with nukes against Reapers is that Sovereign tanked an entire damn fleet shooting at him for five minutes with nuke-yield cannons. A nuke wouldn't have any more luck doing something to a reaper than what they already have.

Anyways, just my thoughts on the matters.

BlazeStryker: Do you mind if I copy-paste that into the relevant chapter? Full credit to you of course, and I might add some to make it a more official codex entry...

Btralox: ... Wow. Props for reading this all the way through in one sitting. I don't even think I could do that.

The Winged Pyro That Drowned: Props again for reading it all the way through in one sitting. You people are crazy. Also, Moa running around the Citadel, with Yackety-Sax going in the background... now that is a good mental picture.

mutual insanity: my thanks for pointing that out. I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the story!


	31. Chapter 29: Virmire Part 1

Shepard hadn't been kidding about getting to the Citadel ASAP. The moment they hit the Solar System and the accompanying relay and data relays, the _Normandy_ instantly jumped to the front of every line and data stream. Priority messages went out to every member of the crew still on shore leave, instantly letting them know that their shore leave was officially canceled, with every crew member to be ready to board as soon as they docked.

So much for getting Tali a good dinner tonight.

They stopped at the Citadel just long enough to pick up the crew before blasting back out to the Widow relay. Where were they going?

"Virmire."

It was a garden world, Jorge noted. Looked very nice. Large tropical range with lots of liquid water and practically no poles. Would have been prime colony world, the kind species would fight over. Except it right next to the Terminus Systems (relatively speaking), and as such was politically impossible to colonize. And pirate raids had a way of convincing the few people who could settle to stay away.

"The Council has given me some information," Shepard supplied. Every member of the ground team listened intently and watched the holos for information on their next assignment. "They sent an STG team to investigate some readings out in in the Traverse. Recently, the STG team tried to report back. And I say 'tried'; the message was too broken to make out. But it was on a secure priority channel. Whatever they were trying to report, it was important."

That wasn't exactly a lot of information to go on.

"Do we know anything else, Commander?" Jorge asked, hoping the answer wasn't what he thought it was.

"No. We're going in blind people. We don't even know if the STG team is still alive, or if they were discovered and forced to send a signal to lure us into a trap. Hell, we don't even know if this will lead to Saren. All we know was they were investigating Saren and tried to send back a signal. The moment we hit system, we run stealth, and then we have until it runs out to figure out what is going on and what we need to do. So I want everyone prepared for anything when we drop out of FTL in two hours, understood?"

Affirmatives chorused around the briefing room.

"Good. Dismissed."

-{[]}-

Jorge, along with the rest of the ground team, made a beeline for the cargo bay, where ground team armor and weapons were stored.

Prep for a mission was much the same, no matter what universe someone was in. Armor was inspected, adjusted, and put on. Weapons were checked. Grenades, medical supplies, tools and equipment were placed in their proper positions. And then it was all checked again, just to make sure.

Jorge was longer than most. The Mjolnir was longer to put on than most, and as the team equipment carrier, he also had more supplies to check. By the time he was satisfied, the rest of the ground team was already well done and they were coming up on the system.

"You ready, big guy?" Williams asked from the weapons table. Clad in her brand-new Predator VI armor, she looked quite ready for battle.

"Just finished," he replied. She'd been watching him for the last hour though, so she no doubt already knew that. "How's the new armor fit?"

"Perfect," she said with pride. "Cost me a pretty penny, too, but from the stats it's worth every single credit."

"You aren't worried about breaking it like the others?" Jorge joshed with a grin.

"Well, I'm hoping that spending all that money on this baby will convince me to take better care of this set," she replied. "That, and that we don't run into any more Thorian creepers, or any more Rachni, or anything else that can spit acid or throw up at me."

"One can only hope," he replied.

"Hey, what's this I hear about you guys getting a feast?" she asked, changing the subject.

Jorge chuckled. "Just something I thought would be nice for everyone who came planet-hunting with me."

"Only planet hunting?" Williams asked, looking a little forlorn.

"You're free to any of it you want, Gunny," Jorge told her. "Better make it fast though. I'm not sure how much of it Wrex is going to want when he finds out."

Jorge felt the subtle pull of the deck beneath him, a signal that they had just exited FTL. They must be on approach to the system. A few seconds later, his suspicions were confirmed.

_Ground team to the briefing room,_ Shepard blared through the speakers.

Jorge and Williams shared a look before heading to the elevator.

They were among the last to arrive. In the briefing room the rest of the team was already waiting, kitted out in full armor, watching the holo as the _Normandy_ put its sophisticated sensor suite to work. Jorge, with his height, was able to see clearly from the back.

_Multiple small geth ships in orbit around Virmire with one extremely large one of unknown signature. But no evidence of sophisticated surveillance, or at least nothing capable of picking us up._

"Joker, take us in, fast and quiet. We need to get scans on Virmire," Shepard told the helmsman.

_Aye, Commander. ETA to surveillance orbit is 30 minutes_, he reported back.

The minutes ticked by slowly, with data trickling in in small amounts as they neared the planet. Joker gave the Geth patrols and the unknown dreadnaught a wide berth. As they neared, they came close enough for visuals, first of the ships, then of the planet, and one thing became abundantly clear.

"Commander, isn't that the ship we saw on Eden Prime?" Alenko asked as he stared at the unfamiliar dreadnaught.

Jorge, who had been trying to glean information from the surface data, quickly switched his feed over to the ship.

"I believe Lieutenant Alenko is right, Commander," he reported. There was no mistaking the almost squid-like design of the vessel, nor the eerie red glow that seemed to come off it. Just like the view the squad had had cresting the hill back on their first mission.

"Then this is definitely something Saren is interested in," Shepard muttered. "Joker, how are those surface images coming?"

_*Just coming in now. Should be enough resolution for our purposes, I'll keep updating the area as we get closer.*_

A series of camera holos splashed up on the left side of the emitter. Jorge, along with everyone else, downloaded them to his omni, then began intently examining them.

They were focusing on an area where they were getting the broken signal, looking for the STG team. The signal, though still impossible to make out, was still broadcasting loud and clear. That was the good news. The bad news was that there were AA guns surrounding it. Geth made or pirate base, no one could say, but it would make it impossible to simply land the _Normandy_ at the coordinates the STG team was transmitting from. Jorge circled the emplacements he spotted on his omni, causing circles to appear on the comprehensive holo of the area up above. Others did the same, marking potential targets or buildings of interest.

"I want options, people," Shepard commanded.

"Can't take the _Normandy_ anywhere within range of those guns, Commander. Joker's good, but he won't last more than five minutes," Jorge supplied.

"We could drop the Mako outside the perimeter and drive to the camp," Garrus suggested.

"We need to be able to extract the Salarian team to find out what they know," Shepard said. "We can't fit them and all their stuff in the Mako. And we can't afford to make multiple trips. If we blast our way through the perimeter, we're going to have to be gone by the time Saren and his Geth or whoever is down there organize a counterattack."

"So… what? We take the _Normandy_ in?" Williams asked dubiously.

"Why not?" Wrex rumbled. He highlighted three AA towers on the southern side of the Salarian encampment. "Take these three out and the ship has a straight shot at the encampment. As long as he keeps below a hundred meters, the other towers can't hit him."

"Even if they're controlled by Geth operators?" Jorge asked dubiously. DOT would have been able to hit this ship with pitiful ease if there was any chance that it came into range of their guns.

"These guns are Elcor designed, probably bought off the black market in Omega," Wrex told them. "And their problem is that they can't depress below twenty degrees. If they mounted them on towers- which they did or else they're stupid- then as long as the ship is below the ceiling of fire, they can't hit him."

"Will it work?" Shepard asked.

Jorge and everyone else spend a few seconds reviewing what they knew. But no one objected. The plan was a sound way to extract the entire STG team in the least amount of time.

"Right then. Garrus, Tali, Williams, you're with me in the Mako. Everyone else be alert in the hanger when it comes time, we're going to need to get in and out as fast as possible if we want this to work."

-{[]}-

Jorge listened over the comms as Shepard and the Mako fought their way through the towers. It was Geth, as expected, manning the towers, and they were unfortunately not able to destroy the guns themselves- Geth, being machines, did not need normal access points, and it would have taken more explosives than Jorge was carrying to take down the towers themselves. But they were able to disable the power generators, taking the guns down long enough for them to get in and out. The third tower went down just as easily as the first two.

*_Third tower down. That should be good, Joker._*

_*Aye Commander. Heading for the Salarian camp,_* he replied over the comms. Even with artificial gravity generation, Jorge felt the maneuvers as Joker flew them, culminating in a relatively sudden stop- not that it was enough to discomfort anyone in the cargo bay- before the ramp opened as the _Normandy_ touched down in the tidal shallows.

Alenko was first down the ramp, followed closely by Jorge and the rest of the team. It appeared that their arrival had come as something of a surprise, given the drawn weapons of the salarians, but their human appearance and non-hostile behavior seemed to calm them down quickly enough.

One in particular came running over to Alenko.

"Who's in charge here?" he demanded as he ran up.

"Me," Alenko replied. "Captain, we need to get everyone organized and ready to-"

"Negative, no one is leaving," the salarian commanded as he ran up. "Tell your crew to power the ship down, a power source that big is going to give away our position."

"But Captain, we-"

"Don't make me pull rank, Lieutenant, shut your ship down now!"

"We're Alliance, you can't order us around," Jorge bristled. The salarian Captain eyed him.

"You just stumbled into my op, a Council op, and that gives me authority. Shut your ship down before we are discovered. No one is going anywhere until we can deal with this situation."

"We're here with Spectre Shepard!"

"And when the Spectre shows herself I'll give her the briefing, but in the meantime shut that ship down now!"

Jorge looked to Alenko. His jaw set, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tell the Captain exactly where he could shove those words, but in the end he relented.

"Why? What's going on around here?" Jorge demanded.

"Something a bit bigger than you or your ship, Operations Chief," the salarian replied. "We need to get control of the situation before anyone leaves this planet."

Jorge heard the Mako roar up behind them in the shallows.

"So what are we supposed to do now?" Alenko asked as Shepard joined them.

"Stay put until we can come up with a plan," the Captain replied.

"Are you in charge here? What's the situation?" Shepard asked.

"I'm Captain Kirrahe, Third Infiltration Regiment, STG. You and your crew have just landed in the middle of a hotzone. Every AA gun within ten miles has been alerted to your presence."

"Ten miles? Shit," Shepard said.

They hadn't exactly been focusing on anywhere other than the STG base, and it appeared that it was going to come back and bite them in the ass. Ten miles was comprehensive. Quite a bit bigger scale than anyone wanted to deal with.

"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Shepard asked.

"We stay put until the Council sends the reinforcements we requested."

_Uh oh._ Every human in that conversation suddenly looked somewhere other than Kirrahe.

"We are the reinforcements," Jorge threw in, since it seems that no one else was willing to put their foot in their mouths.

"What?" Kirrahe asked, his eyes bulging. "You're all they sent? I told the Council to send a fleet."

"We couldn't understand your transmission. They sent me to investigate."

"That is a repetition of our task," Kirrahe replied irritably. "I lost half my men investigating this place."

"So what have you found?" Alenko asked.

"Saren's main base of operations. He's set up a research facility here, but it's crawling with Geth and very well fortified."

_Well, at least something good came of this._

"What's Saren researching?" Shepard asked, curious.

"He using the facility to breed an army of krogan."

"How is that possible?" Wrex asked. The mercenary had been silent off to the side until that point, but now approached and took a very vivid interest in the conversation.

"Apparently Saren has discovered a cure for the genophage," Kirrahe reported.

"So now he has an army of krogan to back up his army of Geth. He's going to be almost unstoppable," Shepard mused.

"Exactly my thoughts. We must ensure that this facility and its secrets are destroyed."

"Destroyed? I don't think so. My people are dying, this cure can save them!" Wrex argued. With his past experiences with Wrex, Jorge could tell the old krogan was working hard to contain his emotions.

"If that cure leaves this planet the krogan, will become unstoppable. We can't make the same mistake again," Kirrahe said, eyeing Wrex warily.

Jorge winced internally. Wrong thing to say.

Wrex stalked up to the salarian. "We are not a mistake!" he growled, forcing the salarian back a step. His teeth gnashed, and for a moment, Jorge thought Wrex was going to pummel the Captain right there. But after a moment of visibly controlling his rage, Wrex stalked off, muttering to himself.

"Is he going to be a problem?" Kirrahe asked frankly. "We already have enough angry krogan to deal with."

"I appreciate that, Commander. My men and I need to rethink our plan of attack. Can you give us some time?"

"Go ahead, Captain. I'll stop back in a while."

"We won't be long, Commander. In the meantime, if you need some supplies, talk to Commander Rentola."

Kirrahe walked off to one of the tents where some of the other salarians, probably officers, were gathering.

"Looks like we arrived just in time," Alenko observed.

"Yeah. I wouldn't be so worried if it wasn't for Wrex. He looks like he's going to blow a gasket," Williams said, shooting covert looks off to where Wrex had gone.

He hadn't gone far, just outside the camp really. But he was pacing and appeared to be deep in thought. A moment later, he took out his shotgun and fired it into the water with a snarl- the discharge caused everyone to look for the source, only to find the angry krogan. Jorge noted that the salarians all silently edged a bit further away from that end of the camp.

"Commander, I don't think Wrex is stable right now," he voiced. All three shot him a deadpan look.

"You three don't worry about this. I'll go talk to him, alright?"

"I'll be watching just in case, Commander," Williams said, fingering the hilt of her pistol.

"So will I, Commander," Jorge threw in. Shepard shot them both a glare, but turned and went towards the tent Kirrahe had indicated housed their supplies, even as several more shotgun blasts echoed around the rocky shoals.

"I don't like this," Alenko commented.

"You shouldn't," Jorge said. Wrex had hundred of years of combat experience, enough to hold his own in hand-to-hand versus him. And he was a biotic. If he suddenly decided to defect to Saren, he could do quite a bit of damage to the team.

"So why aren't we loading the team into the Normandy before coming back with an invasion fleet like Kirrahe wanted?" Alenko asked.

"Council can't invade here- too close to the Terminus," Garrus told them in passing. "They wouldn't risk uniting the Terminus systems with an invasion fleet so close to their borders."

"They can't send anything less, that dreadnought up there will blow anything less out of the water," Williams protested.

"They aren't going to send anything or anyone else," Jorge cut off. "They sent us. We're here. Now it's our job to deal with it."

"How are we going to do that?" Alenko asked with exasperation.

"I'm all for heroics, but not suicide. There's probably thousands of geth here, not to mention the damn krogan army they're breeding. We need an army of our own," Williams opined.

He could understand why they felt that way. Why they wanted backup. A marine was a social creature, only at home in a crowd of fellow marines. They fell back on numbers to get the job done, especially in this universe, because that's what they were comfortable with, and in the face of a mission that would test them to the limits, any marine worth his salt would want more guns behind him.

But it wasn't going to happen.

To be honest, Jorge felt more at home now than he had in the past several months combined. First, he'd found Reach, now, he was a part of a small team about to assault a heavily-armed and well guarded base with no backup and the potential fate of the known galaxy on the line.

Yep. Felt like home.

"We are exactly what is needed," Jorge told them confidently. "The best of the best. The STG are highly trained, and our team is powerful. A precision strike by a small team can take this place out with far less casualties than an invasion or a bombardment ever could. All we need is the proper place to-"

Jorge stopped abruptly as he saw Shepard head towards Wrex. It took a moment for Alenko to understand why, but Williams was as intent upon the encounter as he was.

It started calm enough, at least for a human having approached a visibly irate krogan. But there was still a palpable tension in the air, even without the shotgun that Wrex hadn't put away when the Commander had approached.

Jorge took some steps towards the nearest shelter, hefting the machine gun. Williams did the same, following his lead.

He could make out snatches of conversation as Wrex turned his full attention to the Commander. She was trying to calm him, but it seemed as though her attempts were only enraging him further. Even so, he wasn't doing anything more threatening than normal, even if his words were threatening treachery.

Jorge nearly ran for her as Shepard visibly stepped towards Wrex, her posture aggressive as she demanded him to consider the ramifications of a weaponized cure.

And then came the break point.

Wrex did not submit to her unconscious posturing, stepping right up and challenging her words not more than centimeters from her face. She didn't back down and didn't go for her weapon, even though her hand was hovering near it, but Jorge nevertheless felt it was time to at least put on a show of force.

His instincts were well timed.

"I need to know we are doing this for the right reasons," Wrex growled, swinging his shotgun towards the Commander.

To her credit Shepard had her shotgun out just as fast. It was perfectly timed with Williams drawing up behind Shepard on one side, rifle drawn, and Jorge leveling his machine gun at the krogan, his visible face impassive.

If Wrex noticed, he didn't care.

Around them, they could hear the silence as everyone watched the standoff. The potential injury of Shepard would have disastrous results for the morale of the _Normandy_, not to mention if Wrex managed to kill her. The mission would die in the cradle, doomed before it could even start. Even Jorge's presence and skills may not be able to salvage it.

"Wrex, these krogan are not your people," Shepard said in a steely voice. She held her position a moment longer, before lowering her shotgun and straightening up.

Jorge did not twitch. On the other side, he saw the same resolution in Williams. And Wrex was still pointing the gun, his scaly face still angry.

"They're slaves of Saren. Tools! Is that what you want for them?"

Wrex remained silent and focused upon Shepard, but Jorge saw the glimmer in his eyes as the old krogan thought it over.

"No," he said finally. "We were tools for the Council once. To thank us for wiping out the rachni, they neutered us all. I doubt Saren will be as generous."

Even so, it took him another good second of thought before he lowered his shotgun and straightened up. The entire camp seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Williams looked over to him for confirmation, and Jorge gave a quick nod before directing his gun somewhere else.

"Alright Shepard. You've made your point. I don't like this, but I trust you enough to follow your lead. Just one thing."

"Name it."

"When we find Saren, I want his head."

Shepard nodded before holstering her shotgun and turning around. Williams followed her, chatting easily as they both headed back towards the main tent on the beach, but Jorge lingered.

"Why?" has Wrex quietly. "You had to have known Saren wasn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart."

Wrex glared up at him, but it lacked the open hostility he had shown Shepard. Now he looked… tired.

"Would it have mattered?" Wrex asked back softly. "My people are dying. A slow death, maybe, but dead is dead. They won't listen, won't change their ways, won't stop fighting even though it's killing them. This could save my people. Even if these are slaves to Saren, maybe someone else would steal it and they would be free again. Maybe the salarians would undo the genophage to get their army back. Maybe the galaxy would be grateful for our efforts and wouldn't cut our quads off again."

"Or maybe Saren would use his army to conquer the known galaxy and your people would be slaves forever more," Jorge replied just as softly.

Wrex shrugged. "It was a risk I was willing to take. Alive is better than dead, or so I thought." Wrex mulled a moment before continuing. "Shepard... she's got a quad. She's smart. And she's capable, more than any human I thought could be. I trust her. If she thinks the best way is to go along with that salarian jackass, well, maybe she's right."

Jorge nodded in agreement. Commander Shepard inspired loyalty in her followers, and she paid it back in the end too.

"How do you think they're going to do it?" Jorge asked idly. He had already formed his own opinions, of course, but at this point they knew next to nothing so anything was on the table. Besides, the old mercenary was just about the only one on the crew with anything that rivaled his combat experience. He would have some thoughts.

"Bomb. Has to be. Or else the STG have shit for brains. No other way we can destroy this place without the _Normandy _in the air," Wrex opined, crossing his arms.

"Haven't seen anything remotely capable of wiping this place off the map," Jorge observed. A Havoc would do it, sure, but he hadn't even seen anything like that around the salarian camp.

"They'll have something. STG are sneaky bastards. They always have some trick to pull."

"Ground team, form up!" Shepard called out. The two exchanged glances before heading over to the central tent, where Shepard and Kirrahe were talking.

"Alright everyone, listen up!" Shepard called out as the team formed up. "Captain Kirrahe's got a plan to take this place out for good."

Kirrahe stepped forward, addressing the ground team of the _Normandy_. The salarians for the most part went about their business, likely they had already been briefed.

"We've converted our ships drive into a twenty-kiloton ordnance. Unfortunately, the facility is too well fortified to allow for a dropped nuke. We need to place the bomb at a precise location on the far side of the facility. Your ship can drop it off, but we'll need to infiltrate the base, disable the AA guns, and pacify any ground forces first."

_Looks like the krogan was right. And this plan could be workable with the limited numbers we have._

Alenko was shaking his head. "On foot? We don't have enough men to assault this place."

"It's an infiltration mission, not a full out attack. Our odds are better, assuming we can get in without being spotted," Shepard said contemplatively.

"Correct. But in order to maximize our chances, we need a distraction. I'm going to divide my men into three teams and hit the front of the facility. While we've got their attention, you can sneak your 'shadow' team in the back, and plant the bomb."

Jorge winced. It was a clever ploy and would work better than simply trying to sneak in, but purposely attempting a frontal assault on the facility, even one that was merely an act, was going to be costly.

"It's a good idea, but your people are going to get slaughtered," Shepard said, concern in her voice.

Kirrahe nodded. "We're tougher than we look, Commander. But it's true. I don't expect many of us will make it out alive."

Hard choice, sending his own men on what amounted to a suicide run. This was exactly the kind of mission that SPARTANS were sent on; low odds of success, high risk, and expected casualties north of 90%. Noble Team would probably get through this with no or minimal casualties, but these salarians were no SPARTANS. They would die.

Jorge's respect rose. It took a dedicated and brave man to walk knowingly to his death.

"And that makes what I'm going to ask even more difficult. I need one of your men to come with me. To help coordinate the teams."

It took a moment for that to sink in, but to her credit Shepard answered calmly. "We'll need someone who knows Alliance communication protocols."

Well, that narrowed the range quite a bit. The only three who officially knew Alliance communication protocols were Jorge, Alenko, and Williams.

"I volunteer, Commander," Jorge said instantly. Half a second later, Alenko said the same words.

"Not so fast, LT. Commander Shepard will need you to arm the nuke. And she'll need you, Op Chief, to break into that fort. I'll go with the salarians."

"With all due respect, Gunnery Chief, this isn't your decision to make," Alenko scolded.

"Why is it that whenever anyone says 'with all due respect', they really mean 'kiss my ass'?" Williams shot back.

"Enough, Gunny," Jorge ordered. Williams shot him a look, but relented.

"Williams, Jorge, you're both with the salarians. No heroics, and I want you to bring them all home alive, got it?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Aye, Commander."

Kirrahe nodded. "I will have the ordnance loaded onto the _Normandy_ and brief your crew on its detonation sequencing. Are there any more questions before we go, Commander?"

"I'm ready when you are, Captain."

"Excellent. Then if you will excuse me, I need to prepare my men."

Kirrahe turned and walked towards the requisitions tent, giving a sharp whistle as he did so. The salarians began running over, forming a neat and precise rank on the beach.

"Well, this is it. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, LT. You too, Commander," Williams told them.

"We'll be fine, you'll see," Alenko said confidently.

"Yeah, I just… good luck." Williams appeared quite aware of the dangers they were walking into.

"It's going to be dangerous, especially you two," Shepard looked at Jorge and Williams. "Keep your eyes open and be ready for anything."

"Yes, ma'am. We can handle it," Jorge replied crisply.

"Good," Shepard nodded. "Keep them alive, Jorge, Williams, that's an order."

"Yes, ma'am."

-{[]}-

Sorry this took so long everyone. If you noticed, I managed to finish my other story, which means thi si my primary concern once again. The other reasons for the delay are: Dragon Age Inquisition (good game) and the fact that I tried to write the first part of the Virmire operation as a part of this chapter. Unfortunately, writing the Virmire combat sequence is taking longer than I expected because I insist on following the game sequence, and I haven't been playing the game because Inquisition. So yea, releasing this now before you have to wait another month for the rest of it. Hopefully it won't be that long.

In other news, my nuke comment from last chapter seems to have generated quite a bit of discussion. So I've updated the questions chapter after running some rough numbers and working out some reasoning- go check it out.

And before everyone starts saying that Alenko is obviously going to die, no, that is not the plan. Nor is Williams dying. No one is dead yet. Details will be next chapter.


	32. Chapter 30: Virmire Part 2

The salarians were quiet, crisp, and precise. They approached in the shadow of several large rock outcroppings in the shallows, their knowledge of the secretive ways into and out of Saren's base invaluable. Now, most of it was about to become useless; they would be attacking the front of the facility, facing inland (though 'inland' was relative in the extensive tidal shallows of the area), where the most heavily guarded entrance was. It even had a gate and a checkpoint. Shepard and the rest of the ground team, minus Alenko, would quietly assault the base from an entrance that the STG had deemed relatively unguarded, gain access to the facility, and clear the landing zone. Then the STG, Jorge, and Williams would fight their way to the final AA tower and clear it, leaving the _Normandy_ free to drop off the bomb, arm it, then pick up whoever was left alive from the AA tower, and burn tracks all the way back to the Citadel.

Step 1: knock on the door.

_*... and if you see any way to help, Shadow team, please do so.*_

They'd been split into three teams. Kirrahe commanded the center with the largest team of salarians; they would be taking the brunt of the fire and dishing it out in return. One side, commanded by one Commander Rentola, containing Ashley, would support them by catching attackers in a crossfire and protecting one flank. Jorge, under the command of one Lieutenant Asol, would be protecting the other. All were ready for what they were about to face.

"_Mannovai, Jaeto teams, move! Time to get some attention! All teams, open fire!"_

And on the command, every single member of every team made as much noise as they could.

The two geth sentries in front of the gate went down in a hail of gunfire from all directions. A third stepped out of a guardhouse and was terminated with extreme prejudice. With those obstacles out of the way, and most importantly, the Geth notified, a team of salarian hackers rushed forward to the gatehouse to hack the door open.

Effort had to be made; after all, they had to be considered a legitimate threat. They also had to advance far enough to secure a route to their real objective.

It couldn't have been more than minute before the door was open... only to reveal the sight of a geth Prime and several supporting platforms.

Everyone opened fire again, including Jorge, the thunder of the machine gun echoing off the rocky pillars that made up the lagoon. But even so, two of the hacker team did not make it as the geth focused fire on the nearest enemies. Two lives given in the name of taking Saren down; it would not be the last.

Several platforms fell, but not the Prime, and more streamed out in what seemed like an unending wave. Jorge kept his fire on the entrance, trying to stem the tide and damage as many Geth as he could, but he ran the HMG to its limit without scoring more than a handful of kills; there were so many platforms, and he was too distant to keep a single target bracketed with the inaccurate weapon.

The Geth advanced relentlessly, firing with the pinpoint accuracy only a machine could accomplish. Within minutes, they had an impressive amount of firepower, and they directed it with surgical precision; they were quite clearly coordinating as only artificial life forms could, their fire focusing on priority targets, effortlessly teaming up against weak targets while suppressing strong ones. Jorge appeared to be a high priority target- he couldn't leave cover for more than a second before his shields dropped, not long enough for even one such as he to score a significant amount of damage. Then things got worse; an entire flock of gun and rocket drones arrived just as the geth brought up another set of reinforcements, including another Prime. Only the solid coral rock that provided cover for the teams kept the salarians, and Jorge, from being literally blown away.

Fortunately, the purpose wasn't to break into the base; not yet at least. Still, something was going to have to change if they were going to make headway against the AA tower without excessive casualties. The fire was coordinated and deadly, and it was forcing even Jorge to remain bunkered in cover while the geth slowly advanced.

Suddenly, like someone had thrown a switch, the Geth faltered. Platforms seemed to look at each other confusedly for half a second, before the salarians seized the advantage and forced them to return to the battle. But they didn't return with the same precision they had before. Jorge was able to swing out long enough to junk two platforms before they refocused on him, and even then their reaction times seemed slow.

"_Something's scrambled their targeting. We've got a shot! Chief Williams, take the heat off Mannovai!"_

Jorge saw Williams hammer away at a pair of geth that were targeting Jorge before pulling out a sniper rifle and picking off the snipers that were attempting to zero in on Jorge's face. In return, Jorge picked off a few geth that tried to coordinate fire on the Gunny before ducking back into cover. Now that the Geth appeared to have been disrupted, likely from Shepard's infiltration somehow, and platforms began to drop as the salarians found enough safety to emerge from cover for more than a few seconds.

"Focus fire on the drones! Don't let them flank us!" the Lieutenant shouted at his team.

Jorge obediently turned his attention to the floating menaces that were attempting to close on his position, letting the machine gun sing its song of destruction for as long as his shields held. The drones were light and quick, but couldn't stand up to more than a few hits from his gun. Combined with the overloads that were going left and right, the drones that closed dropped fast; more hovered behind the platforms, providing support. But still, the sheer number of drones ensured that even he could only stay out for so long.

Especially since, as a priority target, an abnormal amount of rocket drones continued trying to play rocket tag with him.

With the amount of rockets and bullets flying, it wasn't long before the team Jorge was assigned to had its first casualty; whether by bad luck or by bad judgement, a salarian poked around the rocky cover he was hiding behind to meet a rocket coming straight on. Boom.

Jorge watched the whole sequence play out behind the rock face that was serving as his cover. Part of the reason Mannovai was only a handful of salarians was because he had the firepower to make up for the deficiency, but only if he could use it. The disproportionate amount of fire he was drawing was both making things easier, because they weren't shooting at the other squad members, and harder, because the big gun was suppressed.

It took an agonizing thirty seconds, filled with rocket explosions on the hard rock and rock chips flying by his visor, before Jorge sensed that he could safely swing out of cover without catching a rocket to the face. He swung out and hammered down the trigger, just in time to catch a drone that peeled off from an attack run on the main group. But unlike the other times, he didn't have to dodge incoming rockets. The drones were gradually retreating back over the concrete wall.

"Aircraft heading out to recharge and re-arm," he reported calmly over the link as a geth platform was blasted to smithereens. Not necessarily for the salarians benefit, they could all see it, but it had to be said for Shadow team to overhear.

"_All teams, advance! We have to get inside the perimeter!_" Kirrahe called out.

_And with the geth drones having retreated, now might be our only chance, _was the unsaid statement. Jorge stepped out from behind cover and advanced along with the rest of the salarians, ignoring the bullets that pinged against his shield. One Prime was down in a heap of scrap, the other well on its way there with all the salarian fire concentrated on it. He drew quite a bit of fire, but the salarians proved they had been holding back all along; one geth sniper lined him up, only to be taken out by an overload and a sniper shot before it could fire. A tech mine exploded in the middle of three platforms, draining their shields just in time for him to run his HMG over them, sending them sparking to the ground. Another platform turned against its mechanical comrades, its targeting programming hacked into thinking its own kind were enemies.

Jorge and the salarians rushed forward as the platforms fell, and made it past the metal boneyard and to the gate in quick order. A visual check showed that there were no geth visible.

"All teams move up!" Kirrahe shouted as Williams ran past Jorge with her squad. "We will be moving forward towards the main facility at first, Mannovai on the left, Jaeto on the right! Move on my mark!"

The fight was now about to get a bit more interesting. The left flank was where the krogan cloning facility was, and if there were any krogan up and about, that would be the side that they would approach.

*_Everyone make sure to bunker up before those fliers come back!_* Williams called out. And she was right. Cover would be needed if anyone was to survive the coming battle. The drones were fragile, but they were fast and deadly.

Jorge jogged just ahead of the rest of Mannovai, his enhanced eyes probing every shadow for a metal enemy, or worse, an reptilian enemy, as they moved along the flank. It was lucky he was; the tell-tale red beam of a sniper rifle designator sprang out of nowhere to fix itself upon his chest plate.

Spartan time kicked in; moving faster than any creature his size had the right to move, Jorge twisted and dove sideways in a blur of speed. Simultaneously, the report of multiple high-powered sniper rifles sounded, and the sound of cracking ceramics and punctured organs meant that at least some had found targets.

Jorge opened fire, the machine gun peppering the concrete where the snipers had taken their shots at him- around them, the rest of the salarians did the same to other positions. Looking back at the team he had been assigned, he saw that one salarian was down, a hole in his chest as he sank bonelessly into the knee-deep water. Salarian number two, dead. Twenty minutes into an operation and his squad already had forty percent casualties.

Shaking the unfortunately familiar thought from his head, Jorge glanced at his motion tracker even as he peppered one sniper position with suppressing fire, attempting to see if the Geth had used the snipers as cover fire to sneak troops in close. Unfortunately, his motion tracker was completely static.

"Hoppers!" He called out. There was a lot of open space here, but they could still jump far enough to cling to building walls and rock faces in a single bound, as Jorge saw from the way one bounded across his vision. Another was hit by a salarian overload, but jumped away faster than the salarians could follow.

"Geth on the flank! Jorge, gun them down, Ipso, keep that sniper suppressed!" the Lieutenant ordered.

Jorge obediently swung around and began hosing down the geth emerging from the front of the research facility. The Lieutenant chipped in, throwing an overload just in time for a few armor-piercing machine gun bullets to core a rocket trooper, but at the range he was at, the machine gun was inaccurate enough that most of the platforms made it to the maze of rocks that dominated the lagoon inside the base. The 'upgrades' he had done really had been terrible in that regard, but no use crying about it now. But the geth kept coming, in ones and twos, and Jorge continued to hammer away at their shields, scoring a handful of kills and weakening the rest.

The heat warning for the gun turned red. The big gun was going to need nearly a minute of cooldown after the sustained fire he had just held. Jorge stepped behind as much cover as he could find - the column he was sheltering behind while waiting for the gun to cool left his armored backpack exposed however. The mission was going, as far as they knew, well. Despite the high casualty rate. The main core of salarians had advanced nearly to the breakoff point. Though at any minute, the gun drones would be back and...

Jorge hesitated, checking his chronometer. The drones should be back by now...

"Drones haven't returned," he noted over the comm channel.

*_Looks like we may getting some help from Shadow Team,* _Kirrahe agreed.

_"_Krogan!" the Lieutenant shouted out.

Jorge swung out and opened fire on the advancing lizard. The krogan came in dumb, charging straight at the Lieutenant as though nothing could stop him while firing his shotgun. Unfortunately, this gave Jorge a clear shot, and every step the krogan took brought him closer and closer to a gun designed to take on lightly armored vehicles. The withering hail of fire stipped the krogan's barriers in under a second; the armor piercing rounds went through the krogan's armor like a knife through butter; two seconds and twenty rounds later, the krogan slammed face first into the sandy beach and did not move.

Jorge let off the trigger, before bursting the gun towards a geth that had poked its flashlight head out. A red light appeared on his chest, but Jorge was quick to track it back to the source- a hopper sitting on top of a slender pillar of rock- and hammered down on the trigger while moving to the left; the hail of fire was quick to convince the hopper to dodge rather than taking the shot.

Fire hammered into his shields from the left, the cover he was advancing towards was already the cover of an assault trooper who was taking the opportunity to shoot him. With only a few meters between him and the trooper, Jorge dashed forward at a speed only a Spartan could achieve, lowering the reinforced right shoulder as he did so. The geth was too slow to react and was hit; it skidded across the sandy shallows with a binary noise, its chest plate cracked. Moments later several bullets ended its movements.

His new cover secured, Jorge swung back around and continued the brutal rhythm of war.

*_Shadow team must be getting close by now. Hold the line men. Hold the line.*_

Behind his helmet, Jorge rolled his eyes. Kirrahe was a good commander, but he had some interesting ideas on the nobility of last stands if Jorge was reading in to his obsession with 'holding the line' correctly. Personally, Jorge didn't intend for this to be his last stand, as beautiful as Virmire was. It was unfortunate that he was unable to save the two salarians on his team, as Shepard so desperately wanted, but casualties were a fact of war, and Jorge did not intend to try to save more by making the team overly cautious; it would not do to have salarians survive if Saren's base wasn't destroyed as well.

Two more assault troopers fell to his gun, as did a rocket trooper and another krogan that came rushing in dumb. It seemed as though this side was lightly guarded, the real heavy hitters the krogan it was capable of mustering, but between the Lieutenant's sniper rifle and Jorge's machine gun, they were able to handle the geth that were emerging.

*_Mannovai, we need heavy fire support in the center!_* Kirrahe requested through the comms.

"Operations Chief, advance and help Kirrahe! Ipso, on the left flank now!" Lieutenant Asol barked. Ipso rushed past as Jorge turned and jogged past towards the center.

The moment Jorge rounded the rock outcropping, he could see why Kirrahe was requesting help. It was a relatively large open area, with rocks only coming up to about his waist all the way to the facility, which gave the salarians, who had taken cover in the last line of large rocks, an advantage. That was, however, their only advantage; three geth Primes were pounding the center relentlessly, ignoring the fire that he guessed was coming from Williams on the other side as geth Destroyers and supporting Assault platforms advanced across the shallows. He could see three dead salarians and one seriously injured, four soldiers out of action; combined with previous casualties, Kirrahe's command group was now down to half strength, maybe less. They were giving it all they could, overloads and hacks hitting troopers at a relentless pace, but the sad fact of the matter was there were too many geth being engaged by too few salarians.

That changed the moment Jorge swung out and fired, but not for the reasons anyone expected. The Salarians expected cover fire, keeping the Geth from advancing as fast or as recklessly as they were. Jorge expected much the same, and to destroy several of the platforms as well. Instead, every Geth within sight of Jorge immediately turned and opened fire on him.

Jorge immediately ducked back into cover, and quickly moved several feet back, as no less than three siege pulses, seven rockets, an overcharged shotgun blast, and a veritable wall of bullets came screaming towards him. He winced as the corner of the stone he was sheltering behind was blown out by the fury of the geth's retaliation.

"I believe I have their attention, Captain," Jorge said safely from behind cover.

*_Agreed. Keep it up, we only need a minute or two more before we attack the AA tower.*_

_Once more unto the breach. _Jorge stepped out from behind cover, moving towards another a short distance away, letting his shields drain as he returned fire with equal fury. He kept moving, slogging through the knee-deep water, ensuring that the fortunately unguided rockets would miss. Once again, every geth in the entire offensive focused on him.

Jorge tightened his stance and ducked his head behind the up-armored collar as his shields collapsed. Sand grains moving at fractions of the speed of light impacted UNSC armor, making new scratches in the new paint as Jorge continued moving, firing the whole time. The salarians of central group attempted to cover for him, succeeding in destroying several platforms.

Jorge saw the primes line up their pulse rifles and decided that it was time to get out of the open. A few quick steps and he was behind cover, just in time to watch as three separate siege pulses and a handful of rockets scream through the space he was just occupying.

Damn, he hadn't been this big of a target since the the Covenant, when every Elite was looking to make a name for itself by slaying a Demon. And they might have had better weapons, but there weren't nearly as many of them. And they were shit at range, those single-handed plasma rifles most carried weren't accurate out to more than forty meters.

*_Krogan!_*

Lieutenant Asol. Jorge's head whipped around towards the left flank to find a krogan rampaging through the two-salarian line. Asol was down, his leg bent at an angle even salarians weren't normally capable of. Ipso went flying like a rag doll as the krogan backhanded him; by the angle of his neck as he hit the rock face, he was very dead.

Jorge was already moving.

*_Left flank is compromised, I_ repeat, left flank is compromised!" Asol shouted into the comm. On his back in the sandy water, the salarian pulled his pistol as the krogan loomed over him. A scaly three-toed boot loomed over the salarians head, preparing to curb-stomp the salarian on his final legs...

Before the boot could connect, the cloned lizard went flying. This takes quite a bit of force, to send a six hundred plus pound krogan flying through the air, but Jorge was one of the few non-biotics capable of doing such a thing. He was also quick to turn his machine gun on the helpless lizard; at point blank range, it was only a second before orange blood began to seep into the waters of the lagoon.

*_... all teams, head to objective! We need to get to that AA gun!*_

_Szar. _The cut-off for the AA tower was on William's side of the battlefield. To get to it he'd have to escort the salarian Lieutenant across the center, between which stood the entire force he'd just managed to draw.

_*Move! Move! Mannovai, where are you!_*

"On our way, Captain," Jorge replied curtly.

He turned to the salarian to find Asol splinting his clearly broken leg using omni-gel. Jorge offered a hand, thankful there were no geth firing at him right here.

"Can't move with any speed," Asol grimaced out. His leg may have been splinted, but he put no weight on it.

Jorge wordlessly shifted his machine gun to one arm as he supported the salarian with the other. Privately, he was considering alternatives, his mind racing; given the force that had been attacking the command team, he doubted he was going to be able to cross to the gun cutoff. Sure, he would be able to make it, but even if he had the use of his gun, he doubted he would be able to get across with the salarian. Even if the salarian wasn't hobbled, his armor was thin; he couldn't survive the kind of fire Jorge could.

For a few moments as he helped the hobbling salarian along, Jorge contemplated picking the alien up under his arm like a football and simply charging across the gap. But he discarded it. This water would slow him down, not much, but enough. He would make it; Asol would be dead from the fire he would draw.

_*Dammit Mannovai...!*_

Jorge and Asol reached the final cover. From here, it would be relatively open ground.

Jorge risked a peek out, his radar still jammed by the hoppers, and saw possibly the worst thing he could think of. Rather than pursuing the command team in their retreat, the geth he had so unfortunately drawn were still fixated on him. It appeared he was a priority target even when he was no longer a direct threat.

There was no way he was going to make it past the three primes, seven destroyers, four rocket troopers, twelve assault troopers, and twenty normal platforms that stood ready between him and the AA tower cutoff. Not with an injured salarian in tow.

"Captain, we can't make it. We'll find our own way," Jorge said over the comm as he turned around. Back the way he came.

_*Lieutenant Asol, what-*_

"Injured, Captain," the salarian replied. He limped along as fast as he could on a broken leg as Jorge brought his gun up, preparing to fight his way through whatever may come. "The rest of Mannovai is dead and we can't make it to you directly. We'll cut through the krogan cloning facility-"

The rest of his reply was cut off as Jorge opened fire on a geth trooper.

_*We'll see you at the AA tower, Lieutenant, Op Chief. Kirrahe out.*_

"You have a route?" Jorge asked.

"We have detailed maps of the whole facility," the salarian shot back. His pistol barked, sending a geth trooper to the shallow water. "If one path doesn't work, another will."

Jorge rounded cover to find an assault trooper, which immediately opened fire. His shields soaked the bullets. The geth suffered his backhand and did not recover.

The salarian was performing quite a complex dance, shuffling along through the shallow water as fast as his broken leg would allow while tracing a map of the facility on his omni tool all while scanning the vicinity for threats.

A roar came from their right, bullets from their left. With the salarian on his left, Jorge trusted him to handle the source of the bullets and instead turned his gun on the source of the roar- another krogan, of course. The lizard was close, too close to kill before he charged into melee range. The two behemoths met with a crash, vying for traction and advantage, but Jorge had the advantage in both weight and size and threw the krogan to the beach that they tread upon. Jorge shoved the barrel of his gun straight against the thrashing krogans helmet and pulled the trigger, barely missing a step. The gunfire off to his left stopped as well, no doubt thanks to the pistol reports he had heard.

"I have a route," Asol told him. A map and route sprang up on Jorge's HUD via his omni just as beach turned to concrete and a krogan came screaming out the door that lead into the facility. The krogan's shields dropped with an overload; the krogan fell just as it reached them from the machine gun. They stepped over the body and through the doorway and into the relative safety-

Jorge stumbled forwards as a blow hit him from behind. His shields blared in warning as they shattered under the single shot. Keen not to have a repeat, Jorge hustled through the doorway, dragging Lieutenant Asol with him on his left arm. When the weight bonelessly fell to the ground behind him, Jorge stopped to take a look.

The last salarian on Mannovai squad was dead, a hole clear through his chest. Unbeknownst to Jorge, there was a rather large hole in the ubiquitous steel pack he carried, a result of the weaponry the geth were bringing to bear in an attempt to take him down.

_Damn._ Just like most every other mission he had ever been on, the Spartan was the last man standing.

He allowed himself a moment of silence for his fallen squad, then set off at a quick pace.

-{[]}-

The route wound its way through the lower levels of the facility, running through storage spaces before exiting the building through a loading dock and heading towards the far side of the general facility. He moved fast, without anyone or anything to slow him down, and he found that there were no enemies; he suspected that the route the salarian had selected took him through as many unmonitored and unprotected corridors as possible, and at the rate that he was moving he was quick to lose his pursuers.

He heard when Kirrahe and the rest of the team made it to the AA tower. When what was left of the team's tech experts managed to hack their way into the towers' mainframe, shutting it down and giving the _Normandy _a big enough window to drop off the nuke.

And then, just as any mission, it all went down the drain.

*_Commander, can you read me?_* Williams asked, a hint of desperation in her voice over the comm.

_*The nuke is almost ready, get down to the rendezvous point, Williams,*_ was Shepard's reply.

Jorge was about to state his own status, and adjust his course accordingly, but Williams cut him off.

*_Negative, Commander. We're pinned down on the AA tower, and we've taken heavy casualties. We'll never make the rendezvous point in time!*_

_*Joker, go pick them up!*_

_*Negative, it's too hot! We can't risk it! We'll hold them off as long as we-*_

The channel devolved into gunfire before cutting off. Sounded like the geth that had been chasing him had turned around.

_*It's okay, Commander, I need a few more minutes to finish arming the bomb. Go get them and meet me back here.*_

_*Have that bomb ready when we get back, Alenko. Joker, get in the air in case we need a quick extraction. Let's move, people!*_

Well, solved that problem at least.

"Commander, I've been separated from the salarians. Do you want me to head to the AA tower or to the bomb site?"

*_Whichever is closer to you, Jorge. Make sure you're at the bomb site when it comes time for extraction no matter what.*_

"Aye, Commander."

A few quick commands through his neural interface brought up a map of the facility. A few seconds of examination, and he had a new route, this one instead taking him to the bomb site. It would be longer for him to get to the AA tower.

No more than two minutes into his new route, the comm chatter returned with a vengeance.

*_Heads up, L-T. Just spotted a troopship headed to your location,* _Williams called out over the comm.

*_It's already here and pouring out geth all over the bomb site!*_ Now it was Alenko's comm channel that had gunfire filtering through.

*_Can you hold them off?_* Shepard wanted to know.

*_There's too many of them! I don't think we'd survive until you get here!*_

There was a pause.

*_I'm arming the bomb.*_

*_What! Alenko, what are you doing?!*_ Shepard demanded over the channel.

*_I'm making sure this bomb goes off. No matter what.*_

Jorge paused in his stride as the unmistakable sounds of keystrokes sounded over the comm.

_*There. It's done. Now go get Williams and Jorge and get the hell out of here!*_ Alenko pleaded over the comm.

*_Screw that, we can handle ourselves! Go back and get Alenko!* _Williams disputed.

And there it was. The reason why Jorge was glad he wasn't the one in command. Go back to Alenko, secure the bomb site and leave Williams and the surviving salarians to die, or press towards Williams, risking deactivation of the bomb in order to evacuate the largest amount of friendly troops while leaving Alenko to certain death.

Helluva choice.

-{[]}-

For those of you who have played Mass Effect one, you know the choice. For those of you who haven't, then know this: you cannot save them both. One must be left to die, so that the other can survive.

And so it is here as well. That is what I meant, at the end of the last chapter, when I said 'no one was dead- yet'. If you go to my user page, you will find a poll. This does require a registered account, so anyone reading this who's on the verge of making an account, here's a reason. On Friday March 13, the poll will close and the survivor will be posted here. At that point, I will begin writing the next chapter.

_EDIT: The final numbers are in. The poll is up for review if you wish; in the end, 132 unique votes were cast in the poll. Ashley Williams was voted for 109 times, compared to Kaiden Alenko at __23 votes. This means that Ashely Williams will be the survivor; Lieutenant Alenko will be left to die on Virmire._

On a related note, I was originally intending to actually write THREE different chapters for the survivor simultaneously: one where Williams survives, one where Alenko survives, and one where Jorge dies. The poll would have gone ahead, and I would have posted all three, with the winner being the 'official canon' and the other one and Jorge's death as a sort of alternate history take on the event. However, it's been taking me so long to get these out I didn't want to make you guys spend another three months just for two chapters that are completely unrelated to the plot of the story. Maybe at some point I'll go back and write them, but for now, they remain unwritten.

On a completely different note, I had a long and interesting conversation with user Whiskey144 about the applicability of nukes in the Mass Effect setting. While my conclusions remain unchanged, mainly because I'm sticking so closely to ME canon and we don't see anything like that in canon, I am now convinced that nuclear missiles could be a legitimate weapon, mainly because I was severely underestimating the potential speeds that could be achieved with an eezo-lightened missile and also because I was underestimating the damage potential of potential nuclear applications. An alternate universe where humanity relies upon nukes could give the Council races a real headache in any war they fight, and he postulates that it could be enough to cause a Cold War situation, where humanity doesn't join the Council. I disagree, but, hey, we are arguing alternate universe conditions based on technology that doesn't exist in an already fictional universe, I think there's enough room for both opinions. Anyways, that managed to distract me for a good week or two from writing, but it was interesting. I'll be updating the FAQ chapter at some point with the new conclusions.


	33. Chapter 31: Sacrifice

*_Williams, radio Joker and tell him to meet us on the AA tower._*

*_Yes, Commander, I..._*

Williams seemed put out over the radio.

*_It's the right choice, and you know it, Ash._*

The three Alliance members had become good friends over the course of the mission. Williams especially had good, friendly relationships with both Jorge and Alenko. And now they had all witnessed the choice that would leave one of them dead on this planet's surface.

*_I'm sorry Kaidan. I had to make a choice,_* Shepard apologized softly.

*_I understand, Commander. I don't regret a thing._*

A brave man, going to his death. He, and the rest of the Normandy's security team that had been deployed to defend and arm the bomb, would be at ground zero. The destruction of the facility would be assured; the odds of survival, nonexistent.

_Though, maybe, just maybe..._

"Commander, I might be able to get to Lieutenant Alenko's position and extract them," Jorge suggested over the comm.

*_Negative. The bomb timer is set for four minutes,_* Alenko supplied over the radio. *_Op Chief, you head for that AA tower and get off this planet, that's an order!_*

*_Agreed. Jorge, you have three minutes to get to the AA tower, double time. I'm not leaving you behind too._*

"Aye Commander."

-{[]}-

Sprinting was not something that Jorge normally did anymore; his role typically did not demand high-speed runs or other extreme mobility tactics. Even so, the Spartan-II was more than capable of speeds that would exceed the speed limits of some roads, even while lugging a machine gun the size and weight of a Quarian. For a normal person, the result would have been a terrifyingly fast run through narrow corridors of concrete, with hairpin turns and the occasional drop-off or death-defying jump across catwalks and bridges. For Jorge, his Spartan reflexes enhanced by his adrenaline, it was a trip down memory lane to training, the last time he had done something as mobile and quick as this.

Even at the speed he was going, it took nearly a minute and a half to begin seeing signs that he was headed in the right direction. His first clue was a geth trooper, heading the same direction he was. The machine didn't hear him until he was right on top of it, and by then it was too late; Jorge shoulder checked it without slowing down, sending the trooper flying into a concrete wall with the sound of crunching metal. Half a second later, only the broken remains of the geth trooper were any indication he had been there at all.

More Geth began intermittently blocking his path. Some he was able to take care of in an identical fashion; others he couldn't reach without slowing down and were therefore ignored, blowing past them at a rate no organic could hope to target. Because they were machines, some did manage to shoot their weapons, but there was no significant drain on his shields; he was out of range before they could hit him with more than a handful of shots. He didn't slow down until he reached his objective: a stairwell.

It would take him directly to the extraction point, a balcony on the AA tower, where he could see IFFs from both the Salarian team and Shepard's team. He could hear the chatter now on the short range comms.

*_Get in, Commander, we need to hold them off!_*

*_Sipur, lock down that destroyer on the right flank!_*

*_Enemy Juggernaut incoming!_*

*_Shit, it's Saren!_*

The doors of the stairwell never stood a chance as the Spartan behemoth tore them off their hinges and flung them away. Then he began to climb the concrete stairs, taking them five at a time.

The Geth had been using this as another route to get troops into the tower, and as such there were Geth Troopers and Assault Troopers liberally scattered throughout the fifteen floors that he ascended, all of which had been alerted to his presence by previous platforms he had run past earlier.

None of it mattered. Jorge ascended the stairs like a rampaging tarasque, crushing every geth that dared stand between him and the exit fifteen stories up, not even bothering with things like 'firing back' or 'taking cover' or even 'slowing down'. In the forty-seven seconds it took him to climb the tower, thirteen Geth were destroyed. He didn't even slow down as he reached the final level, instead electing to simply smash through the door in front of him, emerging into the firefight that was the Salarian's last stand.

His enhanced mind instantly evaluated his situation. He was in the middle of enemy lines, flanking them, with troopers to his left and right and a Juggernaut no more than three meters in front of him. His allies were pressed, but holding well enough, having entrenched themselves as best they could. With that in mind, Jorge decided the best way to continue the carnage he had wrought was to keep moving forward.

The Juggernaut never knew what hit it; one ton of starship-grade armor moving far faster than it had any right to be moving hit it square in the shoulder, crushing that arm and sending it to the floor in a heap. The machine intelligence within had just enough time to turn its optics to see the orange visor of its attacker before the double fists came down like a sledgehammer on its chest. Driven by enhanced muscles, adrenaline, and the strength magnifying properties of the Mjolnir powered armor, the hammer blow smashed down on the ceramic chest, cracking the armor. Impossibly fast, another one slammed down, splitting the ceramic chest open just as a metallic klaxon sounded; the sound of a modified drive core on its way to a wildcat detonation. It took a third hammerblow to finish the job, crunching hard drives and processors into sand even as the rest of the Geth opened fire on him.

The largest combatant on the field down, Jorge picked up his machine gun and began targeting every platform he could see while backpedaling for the remains of the Salarians. A few platforms fell; more came to replace their fallen brethren. And they continued to come even as the _Normandy_ came in to hover at the rear lip of the AA tower.

"Get to the ship! Now, move, move!" Shepard's voice called behind him.

The Geth that remained, sensing their quarry retreat, stepped up their attack, firing aggressively into the backs of the defenders. The return fire from the orderly retreat was enough to cover most of the team to the Normandy's ramp, though one salarian fell to the fire.

Jorge was the last up the ramp, his shields down as he took fire and returned it before the ramp closed and the battle ended.

-{[]}-

_He was wounded, a shot to the gut that had some medi-gel slathered on it. Not that he was planning on surviving this, but it wouldn't do for the geth to disarm the bomb that he was slumped against. _

_A geth trooper poked its head out of cover trying to get a shot at him. Alenko was expecting it; his pistol barked and the geth lost the optics in its 'head'. Another pistol report and the geth was no longer moving. _

_Alenko grimaced and pulled himself up on the bomb. Whatever the shot to his gut had done, it was beyond mere medi-gel to fix; he couldn't move his legs. Likely a spinal injury on top of the gutshot. Not that it would matter in a few more seconds. Still, he couldn't afford to let the Geth near the bomb. As machines, they stood a good chance of stopping the detonation and saving the facility if he let them near it with any time on the clock. With both Summers and Ramirez dead, he was the last man standing and the only one capable of ensuring the bomb would detonate._

_A geth walked right up the center, intent on getting to the bomb, ignoring him. A mistake he capitalized on by shooting it square in the processors, causing a spray of white fluid as it crumpled like a rag doll. And then, just behind the now fallen geth, he saw something. One of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen._

_The _Normandy. _Flying into the distance._

_Alenko allowed himself a pained smile as he watched the ship disappear into the sky. They would make it in time. Shepard would get back to the Citadel, bring the whole fleet down on Saren, and prevent him from getting the Conduit, with Williams and Kadar by her side. _

_Alenko hadn't woken up this morning expecting to die. But here, now, at the end of all things, he was glad that he was the one that was down here, rather than Williams or Kadar. _

_Movement caught his attention; he snapped his pistol around and fired a shot at a geth platform, disabled, but still with enough life in it to crawl towards him. His shot ended its struggles as the klaxon next to his head grew louder, and louder..._

-{[]}-

_*We have detonation,*_ Shepard reported tonelessly over the intercom. *_Initial scans indicate total destruction of the facility. Ground team to the briefing room for debrief. That is all.*_

There was cheering in engineering. Jorge imagined that there was cheering from the mess and the control sections of the ship as well. But in the cargo hold, there was no celebration from the survivors.

The salarians slumped and found places to sit, no doubt exhausted from their ordeal. Kirrahe was alive, but of the original STG team sent to Virmire, no more than half a dozen survived. None smiled at the news of the destruction of the facility, reminded instead of the price that had been paid in blood to achieve this victory.

The ground team was sober as well. Williams especially was at the stage of grief that Jorge identified as shock and disbelief, mechanically entering the elevator to get to the next level. The lift, with himself, Williams, and most of the ground team was silent as they waited for the elevator to ascend to the mess, then trudged up the stairs to the briefing room.

No one made a sound as they sat down. Just the look on Shepard's face, not to mention Williams, was enough for even Liara to sense that the silence should not be broken yet.

"I... I can't believe Kaidan didn't make it. How could we just leave him down there?" Williams finally asked.

"Alenko knew the risks going in, same as all of us. He gave his life to save the rest of us," Shepard replied somberly.

"It should have been me, Commander. You know that," Williams stated.

"It wasn't your call, Williams. I had to choose. And I chose you."

"I.. I'm sorry, Commander. You saved my life. I'm grateful for that. But it should have been me. Alenko was a superior officer. I would have gladly stayed behind."

_Survivor's guilt._

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. The only one to blame here is Saren," Shepard said forcefully. He wasn't sure anyone in this room, particularly Williams or herself, really believed that right now, even if it was true.

_I could have gone to the bomb site. I would have been fast enough. Could have saved him, _the thoughts echoed through his mind. A lifetime of losing soldiers didn't make it any easier after a mission. The thoughts always surfaced, every time, whether it be for a fellow Spartan or for a poor civilian, it didn't matter.

"Yes ma'am. I'm... We'll get it done," Williams said aloud. There was silence for a moment.

"Commander, excuse me for interrupting," Liara spoke up. "But I have an idea. I think the beacon you found in Saren's base was similar to the one you found on Eden Prime. It may have filled in the missing pieces of your vision. I might be able to help you put all those pieces together."

Jorge grit his teeth. He wanted to speak up. Wanted to tell Liara that now was not the time. But the truth was, now was the only time. The only chance. They needed the information that only Shepard had and only Liara could pull out if they were going to have a destination by the time they got to the Citadel.

"You want to join our minds again don't you?" Shepard asked. "Okay. Go ahead."

Watching Liara's eyes turn black as both Shepard and Liara went stiff as a board was something Jorge still found rather disturbing, especially since it meant that Liara was using her species' ability to root around in Shepard's memories. Still, when the two of them slumped and returned to the waking world, it seemed as though it had helped things.

"Incredible. I... I never thought the images would be so intense. I need a moment to collect myself," Liara said, putting a hand to her forehead.

"Did the vision make any sense to you?" Shepard asked after a moment.

"It's a distress call, a message sent out across the Prothean Empire. A warning against the Reapers, but the warning came too late," Liara revealed.

"What about the Conduit?" Shepard wanted to know.

"There were other images. Locations. Places I recognize from my research... Ilos! The conduit is on Ilos!" she exclaimed happily. "That is why Saren needed to find the Mu Relay! It is the only way to get to Ilos!"

"Forget it," Tali spoke up. "The Mu Relay's inside the Terminus systems. Alliance ships are not welcome there. Neither are SPECTREs."

"The Conduit's on Ilos. That's where Saren's heading. I intend to be waiting for him when he gets there," Shepard vowed.

"Saren will have his entire fleet orbiting Ilos. You will never make it down to the surface without reinforcements. You must alert the Council. We need a fleet to- ohhhh..."

Liara wobbled on her feet. The link must have taken a toll on her again.

"I am sorry. The joining is... exhausting. I should go to the medical bay and lie down for a moment."

"We're done here. Dismissed," Shepard nodded.

Everyone else filed out slowly, but Jorge lingered. There were questions buzzing around in his head, and while it might not be his place to ask he was going to ask anyways in the hope of an answer.

"Commander?" he asked softly, catching her attention.

"Yes Jorge? I'm sorry, we need to make this quick, I need to call the Council."

"I heard someone shout 'shit it's Saren' over the radio. What happened? Did you see him at the tower?" he wanted to know.

Shepard sighed. "Yes. And with everyone else engaged in holding off the Geth, I fought him alone."

Jorge raised an eyebrow. Shepard sighed again.

"Fought is a… relative term. He tried to turn me. Tried to convince me to join him. When I refused… well, then we fought a little bit."

"But not 'killed'."

"No. He got away. But… you know that stuff that happened to Benezia? The Indoctrination? I think he's got some of it too."

"Some?"

"Yes. Some. He's still got enough brain in there that he's worried about becoming like Benezia, but he can't see he's already gone. He doesn't know yet; he suspects, but he doesn't believe that Sovereign is using him like a tool. That's why he had that asari studying the effects of indoctrination. That's why he's worried about Sovereign."

"Sovereign?"

"Remember what Shiala said? A massive ship, and when you are around it, you begin to think in line with him? That's it. That's the ship. And it's alive."

Jorge's mind paused a moment to take in the implications that last bit implied. "Alive, Commander?"

"Artificial Intelligence, Jorge. Full blown." She shuddered. "And the way it talked to me… I can see why no one wants any AIs around."

As someone who had been raised by an AI, Jorge was likely one of the few in this universe that knew the intricacies of artificial intelligence intimately. One of the best things he had picked up was this: an AI is just like any other human. There are saints, there are sinners, and there are psychopaths, and given the responsibilities that some AIs had been given in his home universe, a psychopathic AI was a nightmare of dangerous proportions. He didn't peg Shepard as someone who was immediately hostile to the idea of AI, which lent her condemnation of this one weight.

"Worse," she continued, "it's the one in charge, and from what it told me it's goal is nothing less than galactic extinction. This is bad, Jorge, very-"

She was cut off by the chime of the communication console.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

Jorge nodded his assent, turning towards the exit as Shepard opened communication with the Council.

-{[]}-

Jorge didn't bother to take off his armor. Due to the peculiarities of relay travel and the centrality of the Citadel, it was only a few relay jumps from the edge of the Terminus Systems and the center of galactic civilization. This meant that, thanks to Shepard's clearances, that the trip to the Citadel was only two and a half hours. Given that Jorge fully expected to immediately turn around with half the Citadel fleet and head for Ilos to thwart Saren, he decided to keep his armor on.

This did have a few drawbacks, mainly that he was unable to sit down at the mess and going up to the main deck meant he had to turn sideways. Fortunately for the rest of the crew, Jorge didn't intend to stay on the command or crew decks. After grabbing several bottles of water, he headed back to the elevator and down to the bay. He hadn't taken more than a step out of the elevator when a voice called to him.

"Operations Chief," Kirrahe called out, striding over.

"Commander," he nodded.

"At ease," he said as he walked the last few steps. "Op Chief, I've been meaning to ask you since we came aboard, what happened to Lieutenant Asol?"

Jorge grimaced. "I'm sorry, sir. He was killed shortly after we began our alternate route to the tower."

Kirrahe sighed, seeming to almost crumple inwards.

"I was afraid of that. I had hoped that he and you had been merely separated, that perhaps he could have gotten away. Thank you, Op Chief."

The salarian commander turned and walked back to the area near the lockers that the STG had claimed for the duration of their trip. Jorge, meanwhile, headed towards the door of the bay.

Ashley Williams was hunched over the workbench, hands to her head. She had taken her armor off at some point, and was down to the casual uniform the crew wore. As he got closer, he saw a small cross in her hands, attached to a chain brought up around her neck. As he got even closer, he could hear her whispering.

"...I pray in hope for my family, relatives and friends, and for all the dead known to You alone. In company with Christ, who died and now lives, may they rejoice in Your kingdom, where all our tears are wiped away. Unite us together again in one family, to sing Your praise forever and ever. Amen."

She brought the cross to her lips and kissed it before opening her eyes, only to find a bottle of water in front of her. She looked up at Jorge and gave him a weak smile as she took it from his armored hand.

"Catholic?" he asked.

"Protestant," she corrected easily. "Born and raised." She turned to him. "You?"

Religion was not common in either universe, for entirely separate reasons- one universe no longer believed in God because they did not believe that He could sit by and simply watch His people be exterminated; in the other, because the existence of multiple other races and multiple other worlds had caused humanity to move on from their godly patron, a combination of a crisis of faith and the wonders of a newly opened galaxy. At the end of the day, Jorge envied those who found solace in religion. Those who found peace in a small section of their world had one up on him.

He grunted and shook his head.

The two leaned against the workbench in silence, sipping from the waters as thoughts raced about inside the privacy of their own minds. It was Williams who finally broke the silence.

"You've got a hole in your pack, you know," she told him.

Jorge shot her a curious look, but she didn't look like she was joking so he disengaged the magnetic locks on his back and swung the steel pack around. Sure enough, a hole the size of a watermelon had been punched into the steel pack, opening several of the grenade and explosive compartments to air.

"So I do," Jorge replied, frowning. He was lucky ordnance didn't explode when hit or he would have been blown to smithereens from the shot.

"I'd hate to see the other guy," she commented.

Jorge set the pack down against the wall, making a note to either get the hole repaired or replace the pack. "I didn't stop to fight it," he replied quietly. "And I wasn't alone in getting hit either."

"You mean…"

"Lieutenant Asol," Jorge replied grimly.

The silence returned in force for nearly a minute before Jorge broke it.

"You doing alright?"

Williams sighed. "I… I guess so. Shepard came by earlier and talked, and... well, I just…"

She trailed off, unable to put her thoughts to words.

"It's hard, losing a fellow soldier," Jorge mused. "Especially someone you knew well." He knew that quite well.

"I just... feel like it's my fault he died," she confessed.

"You know that's not true."

"I know, I know, but... it still feels like it. I feel I could have done more. Fought our way out of the AA tower, cleared a path for them to retreat from the bomb, something..."

Jorge put a large armored hand on her shoulder.

"There was nothing that could be done, Williams, and you know it."

She nodded. "Yea. But, well, they're in a better place now, and it's up to those of us left behind to finish their work for them." Her hands clenched into fists. "And when we catch up to Saren, I intend to make him pay for every man and woman on Eden Prime, every member of the 212 that didn't make it, and for Lieutenant Kaiden Alenko, God rest his soul. That turian bastard is going down."

Jorge nodded. She had her head on straight.

"You going to wear that the whole time, big guy?" she asked, changing the subject.

"It'll take too much time to take it off just to put it back on," he replied.

"Hoping for a quick turnaround? Me too. I just hope the politicians don't get in the way."

-{[]}-

Well, here it is. As I have told everyone here many times before, this story will not stop until it is complete. That means through the end of the first game, no matter how long it takes me to get there.

I'm sorry this took so long, I've run through it several times now in an attempt to make it as good as I can. Did I succeed? I don't know, but at this point I've been over this chapter so many times I don't think I'd know a good version versus a bad version if they both slapped me in the face.

I've put a little more thought into the nukes option, and have updated the Q&A chapter accordingly, if you haven't already seen it. Basically I managed to find a website that goes way more into depth on weaponry like this than I know/could figure out. Anyways, I've decided that it is no longer a good use of my writing time to debate the issue, so bear in mind my final word on the matter: none of it matters. This is an ME story and we won't be seeing anything more than the standard ME starship weaponry. And even if we did, it would be in the sequels to this story, not in this story itself.

EDIT: some edits have been made to this chapter from the original.


	34. Chapter 32: Grounded

"They did WHAT?!"

It was few and far between that Jorge raised his voice. He wasn't much of a shouting man, he usually didn't need to- his imposing size alone was normally enough to intimidate his fellow humans. As such, everyone within earshot flinched as though struck at his exclamation, except for Williams, who was too angry to care.

"That two-faced bastard Udina locked down the ship," Williams repeated, fuming. "We can't go anywhere or do anything without him lifting it."

Jorge had stayed on the ship while Williams, Vakarian, and Shepard went to the Council Chamber to hear what the Council had to say. However, while they were gone, all systems on the _Normandy_ had gone into password-protected lockdown. Communications and normal operation of the ship were accessible, but everything related to flight operations had been thoroughly locked out. Joker couldn't even access his image collection on the flight console, something which he complained very loudly about. Jorge had headed up to the cockpit, to see if there was anything he could do to help while the rest of the crew tried to hack their way back into their own consoles and make the ship flightworthy again.

Then Shepard and the team had returned. Shepard had blown past Jorge with a dark and angry expression on her face. He knew that expression, and didn't bother her, instead asking Williams just what the hell was going on. And didn't like the answer. Not. One. Bit.

"Tell me that bastard is bluffing. Shepard's a Spectre, surely she can just end the lockdown!" Jorge replied.

"Council pulled her Spectre authority. Something about needing more time to investigate some of her associates," Williams spat.

Jorge swore several insults in his native hungarian, resisting the urge to put his fist through one of the bulkheads. Instead, he stared straight out the window and willed himself not to damage anything while he was still in his Mjolnir armor.

"Uh, dude, could you, ah..." Joker asked hesitantly after a few quiet seconds.

Jorge looked down and found that he had clenched Jokers seat with enough force to leave an imprint of both of his hands in the metal just above his headrest. It took a moment for him to extricate his fingers from the shallow grooves they had made.

"Thanks. And, uh, please try to not do anything like that to the guy with brittle bone disease? Please?"

Jorge nodded, even as his expression remained thunderous. He turned and headed towards the galaxy map, Williams right behind him.

"I just, don't even know, that son of a bitch Udina..!"

Williams was just as angry as he was. That was the worst part. That meant that, the entire time she had been walking over here, she hadn't thought of a single damn thing that could be done to rectify the situation. Still, it would be best to get an expert's opinion on the situation. Jorge walked up to Garrus as the turian fiddled with XO Pressley's station.

"Garrus, tell me we can do something about this lockdown," Jorge said through grit teeth.

"There's several somethings. Unfortunately, most of them would take an army of hackers and at least a few days. The rest would take more money than everyone on this ship combined has," Garrus replied, his voice tight.

"I'm not liking that answer," Jorge frowned. Garrus whirled on him.

"You think I do?" he demanded. He whirled, talons taut, his mandibles spread, exposing his needle-sharp teeth to the Spartan- something Jorge recognized as an aggressive posture. Jorge was unmoved as he crossed his massive arms over Grenadier chestplate.

"I've worked with these protocols before," Garrus said, returning to the console. "It's a little bit of an internal lockdown, but mostly it keeps the magnetic docking clamps on the ship no matter what. Physical lockdown. I've used it to stop drug runners, slavers, and any other ship that we needed not to leave the Citadel before. This kind of stuff would keep the personal yachts of the Counsellors themselves docked to the station! In the entire time I've worked with C-Sec the only escape we had was when they had help from the Spirits-forsaken Shadow Broker! And even then it took three days and cost them nearly two billion credits!"

"Even three days is too long! Saren will have found Ilos and the Conduit by then!" Williams ranted.

"What can we do to end the lockdown now?" Jorge asked Garrus.

"Only one way. We need the password from whoever put us in lockdown. That'll signal the docking authorities to lift it. Then we need to get off this station before whoever it is can re-instate the lockdown," Garrus replied in a tight voice.

"Udina," Williams spat.

"I need to get my gun," Jorge said darkly. Udina would give them the password, one way or another.

"Belay that!" Shepard's voice cut through.

"Ash, Garrus, you're with me. Jorge, get up in the cockpit with Joker and listen for my call. We're going to go meet Anderson. And if things don't work out, THEN Jorge will come with us to Udina's office."

Jorge's hands clenched. He didn't see why she was going to talk to Anderson. But he trusted her. If she thought it would help...

"Aye Commander."

-{[]}-

Jorge waited for forty minutes in the cockpit, listening for the chime of an incoming communication. Watching as the crew tried to access the blocked systems. Tali had come up and was fiddling with one of the consoles behind them, but she was having just as much luck as the rest of the crew. After watching her for a few minutes, and watching Joker try to curse his way into the main flight interface, he knew that Vakarian was right. The only way to end this lockdown in any reasonable length of time was from the outside.

Politics had never hamstrung a mission he had ever been in before; working for ONI had ensured that any mission they went on was free from the kind of questions and oversight that Shepard had to endure. Now that he had been on the receiving end of it, Jorge found that he did not like it. The kind of dislike that usually ended in someone getting filled with 12.7mm holes, or a few cracked skulls and a broken neck. If he ever saw Udina again, that man would regret it.

His dark mood was interrupted by the sound of the airlock cycling. Jorge frowned at it. Unless it was someone else coming aboard, and he could not think of anyone offhand that would be doing so, then that meant that Shepard and the others had returned. Which meant that they hadn't called on him to go beat the password out of Udina, for which he would either be angry at Shepard for not giving him a chance to help or he would be very, very angry at Shepard for giving up.

Still, he intended to reserve judgement for just how angry he needed to be at his commander until he knew the full story.

The airlock opened to reveal Shepard, Vakarian, and Williams, as expected. All three looked not particularly angry, but rather, contemplative.

"Commander?" he asked, inviting her to explain.

She shot him a 'wait' look, before stepping around him to the communications console next to Joker. With a touch, she activated the PA system on the ship.

"Attention all crew. This is Commander Shepard. As you no doubt know, the ship has been locked down by Council authorities and by Ambassador Udina so that we can't go after Saren and the Conduit. They believe that, with his plan exposed, Saren will simply fade away and all his plans will be ruined.

"This is wrong in every way possible. If Saren reaches the Conduit, it may well be the end of galactic civilization as we know it. The only way to stop Saren is to reach the Conduit before he does, through the Mu Relay and Ilos. And the only way to get there without sparking an all-out war with the Terminus Systems is on this ship.

"I refuse to stand by and let Saren win, so as of this moment, I am disobeying the direct orders of both the Council and humanity's Ambassador. I will lift this lockdown whether they like it or not, and go after that son of a bitch. Any man or woman on this ship who refuses to disobey the orders of the Council, report to the airlock immediately for disembarkation. Everyone else, to your battle stations. That is all."

Jorge was glad to see that Shepard hadn't given up yet, but the discourse was hardly illuminating as to what exactly they were going to do to end the lockdown.

"Commander?" he asked again, this time inviting her to explain.

"Anderson's going to be running point on this one for us, Jorge. He's going to break into Udina's office and hack his computer to end the lockdown for us. Once the systems come back online, we're going to have maybe fifteen minutes before they realize what happened and reinstate it. That's our chance to get off the Citadel and head for Ilos."

"And if that doesn't work, Commander?" he asked.

She sighed. "Pray that it works, Jorge, or else someone is going to have to fight their way through C-SEC patrols to docking control to end the lockdown."

"I volunteer, Commander," Jorge replied.

"If it comes to that, Jorge. Right now, we wait for Anderson," Shepard told him.

"No one's come to disembark," Williams noted. Sparing a glance down the corridor, Jorge did indeed see that no-one was heading their way. Several had come down the corridor, only to drop into the haptic positions on either side of the walkway, their battle stations.

"A loyal crew," Jorge remarked softly.

"The best in the Alliance," Shepard remarked equally as softly.

"When is Anderson going to Udina's office?" Jorge asked.

"Fifteen minutes. If we aren't off this station in half an hour, then it's your turn," she replied.

"Aye Commander."

-{[]}-

_Udina was sitting in his office, going over some of the minutia of the case against Saren. _

_Finally, his work had been completed. The galactic Council had formally recognized humanity's efforts in exposing and hunting Saren. Indeed, they were expected to publicly announce that humanity had been instrumental in bringing Saren to justice, once Saren was finally caught of course. _

_Politically, the ramifications of this were huge. For the past twenty years, humanity had been screaming for recognition, and now, they finally had not just attention, but respect. They had proven they were capable of contributing in an indispensable way to galactic civilization, and in doing so had surpassed the Elcor, the Hanar, the Volus, and every other major galactic civilization short of the Council races themselves. It was a big step. It meant that they would be the next in line for a seat on the Council, bypassing the other races and instantly jumping to the front of the political line. Six months had catapulted humanity from the newest race in the galaxy to the front runners in politics only short of the Council races themselves._

_It was a shame about Shepard. If only she could keep her mouth shut and her crackpot theories to herself for a few minutes, she would be the shining example of humanity. As it was, she had still done more to advance humanity than any man or woman before her, and despite the messes in Chora's Den that he'd had to smooth over he found himself grateful to her. She would get over her anger, once he managed to secure her SPECTRE status. He had not been expecting the Council's move, rescinding her status, but it had made his lockdown much easier. And once all this blew over, he could get her reinstated. The Council were no doubt trying to prevent an even faster rise to Councillor status than anticipated by having her rejected as a candidate for some trumped up reason; without an active human SPECTRE, gaining a Council seat would be impossible. Fortunately, if the only reason that she was being rejected was because of some person she knew, he could easily get around that. A few discreet investigations into some of the other SPECTREs would no doubt reveal some things far, far worse than knowing someone politically undesirable-_

_The doors to his office opened, admitting Captain Anderson. The large black man didn't even slow his stride as he headed towards Udina._

_"Anderson?" he asked as the man continued to head towards him. Udina felt particularly uneasy, the man looked unhappy. "I didn't send for-"_

_Anderson's fist was quick and hard, hitting Udina's jaw and knocking him to his own desk. The ex-special forces commander hadn't gone easy on the fifty-plus year old ambassador, knocking him out with a single punch. The last sounds Udina heard before slipping into blissful unconsciousness was typing on his own haptic keyboard._

-{[]}-

Jorge passed the time by gathering his HMG from the docking bay. He also took his armored pack, hole and all. It may have been damaged, and he made sure to unload the sections that had been exposed to air, but it was still capable of carrying a number of grenades and explosives. By the time he had returned, the fifteen minutes were up and Anderson was five minutes into the time allotted for the hacking.

He found Shepard staring at the flight console over Joker's shoulder, watching the haptic intently. Joker, fortunately, had finally stopped complaining about getting into the console and was instead waiting silently. He joined them in staring at the console, waiting for the lockdown to end.

Jorge sighed after another few minutes passed. Looks like he might be heading down to C-SEC after all. He pulled up his omni and began looking into routes to the dock authority-

Joker's screen flashed up, drawing his attention. For a moment, Jorge saw something blue and shaped like an asari- a naked asari- and another something blue, this time translucent and tentacled. Doing things with each other that no man should see. Or hear.

Joker was extremely quick with the cutoff key, sending the haptic back to a flight configuration.

"Heh, sorry, must have.. done...been... something else other than what you just saw..." he coughed.

"Joker. I don't know, I don't want to know. Just get us the hell out of here," Shepard said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Aye Commander!"

Jorge left the cockpit attempting to erase the lewd acts from his unfortunately good memory.

-{[]}-

Short chapter, I know. The good news is, it's all excitement from here on out. Time for the endgame.

Next few months are looking pretty busy for me; this is my only story going right now though, so I would guess a month or so before the next chapter is out. Sorry.

BTW, made some modifications to the last chapter, minor in my opinion but noticeable.


End file.
